


Wavering Integrity

by MrYaksup



Series: Slavetale [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - SlaveTale (Undertale), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mindbreak, Rape/noncon is not between Sans and Reader, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader is gender neutral but has a dick, Sans can't consent and Reader feels icky about the whole thing so, Slavery, Soul Sex, Warnings May Change, also Sans/Reader is dubcon, also aside from 1 scene in chapter one i'm not sure how much of it i'm gonna show, because um...., because we need more of those, but the whole story is basically the aftermath of rape/noncon, i don't have a lot planned out so i dunno what might happen in the future, it's bad on both sides, ooc sans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2019-11-12 16:06:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 45,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18014015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrYaksup/pseuds/MrYaksup
Summary: You didn't ask for this. You just wanted to go back home, get a hot shower and sleep. Instead, you find yourself saving a monster from their fate of continued slavery due to the urging of a rather desperate ghost.You're not a hero, but when you're left with a small skeleton in your house that won't sit on a chair because, in his words, "monsters belong on the floor", well... Your Integrity won't let you leave the matter alone.But, as you will find out, trying to fix the problem is just as bad as doing nothing... It might even be worse.You're left with only one question: Can you really help someone by hurting them?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually an Au from a story I'm still working on called "Not so Different", but the only thing in common between them is that they share a Universe. Basically monsters get to the surface, are enslaved, and Frisk can't reset anymore. Monsters become the pets or workers of common folk. 
> 
> In Not so Different, Sans is taken in by Reader after 3 years and suffers minimal psychological damage, while here... it's 8. And he's totally broken. 
> 
> This is an extremely self-indulgent story, as well as practice for me writing in present tense. Also be warned that the goal of the entire story is to get Sans back to how he used to be, so for most of it he's going to be extremely out of character. He'll slowly come back to be the punster we know and love. 
> 
> Please mind the tags. This is, for the most part, a messed up story, and what Reader does falls into a pretty fucked gray area. If you're not sure you can handle that, you might want to click away.

You aren't entirely certain why you're staring down the entrance to an alleyway so late at night.

You hazily remember something about taking a shortcut, but it feels like there's more to it than that. Like the darkness is beckoning you, and you remember hearing a phantom whispering amongst the jazz music you'd been blasting through your earphones as you'd neared it. It hadn’t been in a language you could understand, static and odd clicking noises fogging up the words. You have no idea what any of it had meant.

But whether it's because of some weird mystical reason or not, you are about to go into a filthy alleyway close to midnight, in the middle of a well-known dangerous city. And even though you're slowly regaining your senses and reconsidering this whole 'walking through an alleyway' deal, you find you can't stop yourself. You're walking inside in a trance, your mind hazy and your body moving against your will.

You see a figure standing with their back to you, another kneeling in front of them in a very compromising position. You can't really see the kneeling figure properly, but judging by their low-hanging head and the leash you see in the standing figure's hand, they're either a kinky sub, or a slave. In this city, the latter is far more plausible.

You hear noises before you even manage to walk a full five steps. Normally you would freeze, but whatever entity still has control of your body shifts you behind a tall pile of trash and out of sight, right when the noises start getting louder. In your haze, you recognize the sound of voices entering the alleyway on the other side.

"Took you long enough" says the original standing figure, annoyance in their tone. You note the roughness of their voice, and in your head they look like a mobster, complete with the suit and the tacky fedora.

"There is no need to be upset, friend" the new figure chuckles, and you hear more footsteps indicating they're not alone. For some reason, they, too, look like they have a suit in your head, but this figure looks... Rich. Like they're from high society "We're here now, aren't we? No need to get your panties in a twist over a few minutes."

"Ain't got no twisted panties, just better shit to do" the 'mobster' growls, tugging once at the leash in his hand and getting a small aborted noise from the figure at his feet "I got the goods. You got the money?"

In your mind's eye you picture the 'lord' with a money-filled briefcase, taunting the 'mobster' by shaking it lightly in his hand with a huge smirk. The figures at the lord's side look like bodyguards that are staring the mobster down.

"Of course. I'll have you know I never go back on a deal."

How do you know all this if you aren't seeing it? Why can't you _move_?

**- _Patience_ , human. You need not fear, I will do all that needs to be done. You only need to take care of him afterwards. -**

You don't get the chance to freak out over the sudden voice in your head, the voice you'd heard whispering through your earphones that you can understand now, because the lord is speaking again.

"But before we make the exchange, I would like to ascertain the... _quality_  of the goods, if you understand my meaning" you're not sure what the lord is talking about, but his guards are chuckling under their breath and you can see his smirk widen and turn into a cruel grin "I'm sure it won’t bother you any."

The mobster hisses "Listen, princess, I said I got better shit to be doin'-"

"I will add five grand to the price."

The lord shakes the briefcase again and the mobster quiets.

"But only if you let me do it now. Deal?"

The mobster thinks it through for a moment, and clearly decides that five grand is worth the lord 'checking the goods', because he gives a long suffering sigh and throws the leash over onto the lord's hand. The lord grins wider while the mobster sneers.

"Wha' ever, I only sell the things, don't play with 'em. You may be a sick son of a bitch, but you got money, so. Have at it, freak."

The mobster moves away from the kneeling figure to stand behind the lord's back. The lord gives the mobster the briefcase, and when the lord promises to give the extra five grand once he's done, the mobster rolls his eyes and walks to the other side of the alley, the right side, keeping watch. The lord's bodyguards follow, leaving only the lord, the kneeling figure, and you on the left side of the alley, the side you'd come in from.

There is enough distance between the lord and his bodyguards that if you were to run to him right now and slit his throat, the guards wouldn't get there in time. If you then wanted to grab the kneeling figure and run, they wouldn't be fast enough to catch you before you ran into the night.

\- What? - you think, your heart almost beating out of your chest at the foreign and violent thoughts - No, you can't make me kill that person! I'm not like that, I-! -

**\- He has been hurt enough, human. This is my- _our_ , chance to stop him from being hurt again. There is a knife in that bag, if you will only- -**

\- No! Whoever 'he' is, I'll save him, I will, just - don't make me kill the lord, please, please don't make me kill!! -

The unknown force tries to move your arm to one of the trash bags, where you can see something shiny, likely the aforementioned knife (this whole thing was planned, wasn't it, _what is going on_?!), but you fight with everything you have.

 **\- ! Do not be insolent, child. This lowlife deserves to be eradicated! -**  

You can fight the ghost all night if needed, as hard as you possibly can. You have too much Integrity to kill someone in cold blood, no matter how vile they may be. You refuse to let the ghost alter your unshakeable sense of morality.

"Well," you hear the lord say as you fight with the one controlling your body, your mind's eye giving you plain view of the greasy smirk on his face as he walks around the kneeling figure to stand in front of them and, subsequently, give his back to you "You really are as beautiful as they’ve told me, aren't you? For a skeleton, you are quite fetching."

They'd been so quiet this whole time, you almost jump when the kneeling figure speaks.

"... thank you, master."

The voice is rough, like they haven't been given water in days, like they have no more will to live. And yet your mind's eye (which you suspect by now is the ghost showing you the scene) gives you a perfect view of a small, beautifully dressed skeleton kneeling at the lord's feet. From what you can tell they are wearing some form of a deep blue chiffon that is see-through enough that you catch a glimpse of their ivory bones, somewhat like an Arabic dancer costume but with less gold. There is a smile full of teeth on their face, but it's empty, as empty as the dirty white of their eye lights.

There is no one there. They've been broken a long time ago.

... But you have the distinct feeling... there is still a chance for them to return to who they used to be.

**\- ... You are... strong. I cannot force you to kill, but if you will let this run its course to enact your pacifistic plan then I will entrust this job to you... as I cannot bear to watch.-**  

You feel the ghost leaving you with some sense of relief, but before they're gone-

 **\- Just... Please save Sans. I beg of you, human. -**  

And they're gone.

... So. His name is Sans, huh.

You don't know what the ghost wants you to do with your limited resources (well, you do, and you're not willing to go _their_  route) but you're ready to make your move the moment they give you back control of your body. Still in hiding, you take a peek at the scene and notice that the guards aren't nearly as far away as you need them to be. Would the lord get shy and ask them to move a little further if you let him... touch Sans? You'd told the ghost you can't kill, but can you live with yourself knowing you could have prevented someone from getting hurt _more_  than they already had? Sans looked... Well, he didn't look like he was even a monster anymore, more like a doll that just repeated programmed words. Even without the ghost pushing you to help him, you want to save this poor skeleton from his fate by (almost) any means necessary.

There is no time for you to decide if you can kill however, because the lord takes barely any time to put a hand on the skeleton's head and pet it. Sans doesn't really react, merely smiles a little wider.

It's so fake it's painful to look at.

"Why don't you help your new master out, hm?" the lord says quietly, almost gentle “I’m sure you can find the zipper just fine. You are well trained after all, aren't you?"

"of course, master."

You feel your stomach protesting as you watch Sans masterfully pulling the zipper of the lord's pants down with his teeth. His eye sockets are at half-mast in an almost perfect copy of actual sexual interest, even though you're almost certain that he's just numbed his feelings of terror and revulsion. You don't want to look at this at all, feel like you might puke at any moment, but if you want to save Sans you _need_  to look for an opening. Between now and the moment the lord decides he wants to leave with the skeleton there has to be a window of opportunity, a moment where you can grab him and run. You are quite fast, you're sure you can lose the guards... But you're not sure you can get Sans in the first place.

While you're daydreaming Sans manages to pull the lord's fly open and pulls his underwear down with practiced ease, not even flinching when the man's dick springs up in front of his face. He brings out a blue tongue, about to touch the dick in front of him-

"Do you _mind_?" the lord suddenly hisses at his guards, who had been looking at the proceedings with rapt attention. They suddenly look embarrassed at being called out "At the  _very least_  walk a little further away or something, can't you see I'm in the middle of something?"

"But Boss, what if-"

"Shut it, I don't want to hear you run your mouth about my safety, **_I want a fucking blowjob_**!" the man practically shrieks, and then all his guards are walking to the other end of the alley, looking away from the scene "Good. Stay there."

You almost smile because what the asshole has just done is perfect for you, but it doesn't even have a chance to form before the lord puts his attention back on Sans.

"Now... Where were we?"

Sans had stopped the moment the lord had started shouting, tongue half-way out of his mouth and looking lost, but the moment he is addressed, he smiles and goes back to his job. He licks a stripe along the length first, bringing up a hand to keep it in a gentle hold as he laps at the head, jerking it in gentle movements. It's only when the lord's hold on his skull gets a little tighter that Sans moves forward and takes the cock in his mouth, moving back and forth and making the lewdest noises you have ever heard. His sockets close and his eyebrows furrow, half in concentration and half in 'enjoyment'.

You tell yourself you _at least_  shouldn't be focusing on how Sans is giving head like a fucking voyeur, but you can't look away.

"Fuck..." the lord pants, groaning a little "So good, you're such a good boy."

You feel a shiver down your spine when Sans gives a little moan at the praise and moves a faster, the wet sucking noises only increasing. This would be pretty hot if Sans were actually into it, but he’s _not_  and all it does is make you want to gag.

You feel your disgust heighten, but you still watch with rapt attention as the lord gets closer and closer to the edge, if his hisses and groans are any indication. Sans keeps sucking and jerking what doesn't fit in his mouth up until the lord shifts his hand on the skeleton's skull down and to the back of it. Before you can figure out what he's up to, the lord pushes harshly on the back of Sans' head until the poor monster is forced to deep-throat his dick in a sudden action, making a choking noise with wide eye sockets as the lord groans long and deep.

You think this might be the moment Sans struggles, but it's barely a few seconds before he goes limp in the lord's hold and his eye lights roll to the top of his sockets. The lord laughs a little and puts his other hand on the skeleton's skull, moving the monster's face back and forth on his erection with reckless abandon. At this point Sans is letting the man fuck his mouth with barely a few choked noises, saliva and precum dripping from his mouth to his chin and dropping to the dirty floor of the alley. His hands are holding onto the lord's pants for dear life, his whole frame shivering.

You think the lord's getting close. You _hope_  the lord's getting close. You just want to grab Sans and _leave._

In a few moments it seems you’ve gotten your wish granted, because the lord starts spewing swear words like there’s no tomorrow and going faster and faster- and suddenly he thrusts deep into the poor skeleton’s throat, the monster making a choking noise. His sockets close tightly as he swallows around the dick in his throat, only able to slip off when the lord decides it's enough and takes his hands off the monster’s skull.

“Ah… Now _that_  was refreshing” the lord chuckles, his voice a lot more relaxed “I knew I wasn’t going to regret you, skeleton. You are a very good boy indeed.”

After coughing a little and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Sans grins lazily up at the lord.

“thank you, master. i am glad you enjoyed yourself.”

Your gut roils at the words, but your eyes are trained on the soft pet the lord gives to Sans’ head, to which the skeleton shuts his eyes and hums softly.

 _\- Just move away, move a little more toward the other end of the alley and_   _ **get your hand off of Sans** -_

“I suppose this is the moment we part ways” the lord then says to the mobster, taking a few steps so he's next to the still kneeling Sans. The leash is on the ground “If my associates would be so kind as to give this generous man his money?”

You're praying at this point. Praying the lord will move _just a little further_.

And again, as if your wish has just been granted, the moment the body guards give the mobster the briefcase and the mobster tries to open it, he pauses.

“… How do I know this ain’t gonna blow on me?”

“Blow on you?”

The mobster sneers, lowering the briefcase “Yeah. Like a bomb.”

The lord can only laugh haughtily at the words “Why my good sir, I would never stoop so low as to-“

“ _Then open it yerself, ya numskull_.”

The lord’s grin is immediately replaced by a grimace, but he's already walking forward as he grumbles under his breath.

You, however, are blessing your luck. You only wait until the lord is far away enough from Sans, far enough that he won't be able to make a grab at you. You wait.

Three steps, two steps, one step-

**_Now!_ **

You feel like everything is in slow motion as you sprint from your hiding spot to Sans, barely registering how the lord’s bodyguards notice you immediately and are preparing to shout and run after you- but that is the moment when you grab Sans, the small skeleton weighing basically nothing as you crouch and grab him princess-style, immediately turning around to start running. The lord notices too, turning around and looking on with horror as you steal his prize right under his nose.

And then you’re sprinting.

You feel adrenaline coursing through your veins as you run with Sans in your arms, the guards' shouts and hurried footsteps echoing behind you. Anyone else would have probably been caught fairly easily with how fast the guards are, but _you_... You're in outstanding shape, and you thank your past self for investing all that time in making sure you can run fast, no matter how much the desire had once been rooted in paranoia that your life could one day depend on the skill.

You run with everything you have out of the alley and into the empty streets, then into a complex maze of alleys where you manage to outrun them. The moment you do, you skid violently and shuffle behind a pile of empty cardboard boxes and trash bags, trying to keep your panting down to a barely heard noise.

You hear the guards' footsteps a few seconds later, running away from your position, and you wait a full five minutes before you finally relax and let out a relieved sigh.

You did it. You outran them! You let out a soft, incredulous laugh. That’d been nuts.

"... master?"

To your credit, you'd only forgotten Sans was there because you'd been so focused on escaping. When he speaks though, you jump a little and look down at him. He's staring up at you with foggy eye lights, mouth slack as if in confusion.

"Are you okay?" you ask. You're not entirely sure what kind of answer you're expecting, but regardless, what you receive is a fake grin.

"of course, master" his voice is almost entirely robotic, and he shuffles slightly to be more comfortable in your lap as he speaks "i'm always okay."

You refrain from asking him not to move so much, instead focusing on the important part "Um, actually, I’m not- I'm not your master."

Sans pauses at that, staring up at you, not comprehending.

You decide to elaborate "That man who, uh... who hurt you. I just got you away from him. I'm not your master."

It's incredibly sudden when Sans gets off your lap and stands up, and you can't help but startle slightly. When you look up at him, he looks emotionless.

"my apologies, there must have been a misunderstanding. that man is my new master, he wasn't hurting me" you want to protest, but Sans bows and continues "i must return to him now, but i thank you for your concern."

What! Just how well conditioned is he that he's about to return to that fucker-!

You're about to get up and grab his arm, to keep him from leaving, but suddenly you hear the echo of the ghost screeching at you desperately.

**\- He's about to teleport away! _DO SOMETHING!_ -**

In your bout of desperation, you blurt out the first thing you can think of that would make Sans stay.

"Wait!” you practically shout ”I am your master!"

He pauses, looking down at you once more. He’s still emotionless, just standing there.

“… master?” is all he asks, sounding just as lost as he had a few minutes before. He clearly has no say as to what he’s doing, and it only makes you more determined to help.

"Yeah, that was just to uh- To test your loyalty!” you laugh a little nervously, talking out of your ass, hoping Sans’ head is too foggy to question you “You did great by the way, you were very good and-"

And just as quickly as he'd left it, Sans suddenly sits on your lap again, fake grin back on his face. Except now, it seems bigger, like he's supposed to look giddy. He doesn't.

"i did good?” his voice doesn’t sound as robotic, but it doesn’t give you the impression of happiness that he’s clearly trying to convey.

“You did” you say, a little awkward, but figuring that the worst you can do right now is to keep him at arms length, you put a hand on his skull and lightly pet it. Sans closes his eyes as if in contentment and hums a little. It all feels pre-programmed and makes you feel a little sick “You did very good. Is it okay if I take you home now?”

“of course, master.”

You almost want to stop him from getting out of your lap, kind of want to carry him, but you ultimately let him get up. You do the same, your thoughts racing from how crazy this whole night had gotten, wanting nothing more than to get home, have a hot shower, and get into bed.

You’re taken out of your thoughts by Sans offering his leash to you, clearly expecting you to walk him home like some kind of dog. You want to recoil from it, but Sans is staring expectantly with that fake grin of his, and he thinks you’re his master- what if the moment you do something unexpected for him he tries to leave again? You can’t afford it, not out here in the open.

So, reluctantly, you grab the leash.

After a few moments of checking the streets to make sure none of the lord’s bodyguards are around, you take Sans out of the alley and hurry home. Luckily there are no mishaps as you get to your house, feeling a lot more secure that you are in a popular area and that people are still outside during this time of night. As much as the noise can be annoying, the security’s nice.

You unlock the door and quickly usher Sans inside, breathing a sigh of relief once you get in and lock the door behind you. It’s as you turn around and are faced with a grinning but lost-looking Sans that it finally hits you that you haven’t just saved a monster from further harm and servitude…. you have also saddled yourself with housing, feeding, and treating his mental ticks.

Shit. You have really not thought this through.

Still, your Integrity and empathy would never allow you to throw him onto the street, _especially_  not after what he has just been trough. So you decide that it is just best to suck it up and take it one step at a time. How bad can taking care of a skeleton be anyway?

“So…” you say as you stand there awkwardly “I realize I don’t know your name.”

Technically you do, but it’d be creepy to call him by it when he hasn’t told you what it is.

The question seems to legitimately surprise Sans, who blinks at you in confusion for a bit before saying “uh… sans. my name is sans.”

That one didn’t sound robotic, or pre-programmed. Did his masters just… not even bother learning his name? Did they just call him “monster” or “skeleton”? That… Wow. And you’d thought you couldn’t think less of them.

You make sure he sees you smile as you reply “Well, Sans, you can call me Angel. It’s nice to meet you” you then present your hand to him, hoping it might awaken his true self just like asking his name had. Lo and behold, he looks incredibly confused, but grabs your hand anyway. You shake it softly, your smile widening “I hope you enjoy your stay here.”

You know you’re acting weird, but this whole situation is so bizarre you don’t know how else to act. It’s a relief that Sans doesn’t comment, but you feel a little sad that, the moment your hand leaves his, the fake grin is back on his face. You shouldn’t have expected to be able to get him out of that programmed state in just a few minutes, but you can’t help but be a little disappointed anyway.

“of course, master” he says, and you can tell this is one of those phrases that you’re going to be hearing a lot.

You’re not sure why you’re surprised when, after that, the two of you spend a solid five minutes staring at each other. You’re waiting for Sans to do something, or express some kind of want. Maybe to ask where his bed is going to be, or if you can give him some food or water, even him asking for a change of clothes would calm you down. But he doesn’t. He just stands there, staring, and you suddenly realize that he’s waiting for _you_  to move and ask something of _him_. The thought breaks your heart and makes you finally move.

“Okay,” you begin with an awkward cough as you walk to the kitchen, trying not to show how stressed you are just from how heavy the weight of this all feels. Sans follows like a puppy “It’s kind of late, we should probably eat something and go to bed.”

Once inside, you turn to him, about to say something- but the sight of his leash dragging on the floor stops you. You should probably take that off… the collar too, if possible.

“Actually” you start speaking softly, not wanting to startle him as you crouch to his level “Let me get this off for you.”

Sans looks confused again as you unclip the leash, but doesn’t comment. It’s not until you’re about to unclip the blue dog collar that he says something.

“… master?” his voice stops you in your tracks, you hands posed on the collar unmoving. He doesn’t sound upset, mostly just uncertain “do you not like the collar?”

“Um” you blink a little, confused yourself. You look into his eye lights “What do you mean?”

“you were going to take it off, so that means you want to change it” he says matter of factly, rising his bony eyebrows a little to express his bewilderment “do you not like it?”

… Oh. Of course he wouldn’t think that you’re taking it off permanently, he just thinks you want to switch it for another one. Is this one of those things he’s going to fight because it’s not “master-like”? You hope not. The sight of it makes you uncomfortable.

That’s when you think of something, an excuse than just might work if you’re careful about it. Not only that, but it could work towards his recovery. Possibly. You’re going to have to do some research about it later.

“Yes. It’s not pretty enough” you say, promptly taking it off when Sans doesn’t stop you. He’s still staring at you with light confusion “You deserve better, for being so good.”

“you’re giving me a present? thank you, master!” he grins at being called good, but you can still see confusion in his eye lights. You feel like he wants to question you, possibly ask where his new collar is.

Well, shit. Now you have to get him _something_. You think for a bit, and then smile as something comes to you. You tell him to stay right there, that you’ll be back in a second, and rush to your bedroom. You have a bunch of jewelry stored from your more rebellious years, and you occasionally do like to wear a necklace or two. So, you grab one that shouldn’t feel too restrictive to Sans and rush back over to him.

Sans is right where you left him, staring at the doorway of your bedroom and grinning when he sees you come through. You have to say, if that grin were genuine you feel like it’d be really nice, having someone around who smiles when they see you. Pity it’s not.

“Here you go,” you say, presenting the necklace to Sans with a smile, but you can feel some nervousness still. You really hope he will take it… if not, you do have a few chokers, but you hope to get him off that habit as soon as possible “Do you like it?”

It’s a simple black string with a blue gemstone in the form of a teardrop as a charm. You’d always thought of it as beautiful and think the color blue would truly compliment Sans.

Sans, once more, seems confounded and looks from the necklace to you several times. He can obviously tell this is not a collar, but it’s a present from you, his new master, and he’s not supposed to say no in general, let alone to a _present_. So, unsure as he still is, he grins and presents his neck for you to put the necklace on him.

You beam, and carefully slip the cord over Sans’ head and drop it so that the teardrop lands on the center of his sternum. Sans then moves back and gently grabs at the gem, touching it cautiously, as though it will break in his palm. Then, he looks up at you with a grin that feels a little more genuine than before.

“thank you, master. it is very beautiful.”

To say you’re pleased is an understatement. You feel like you could walk on clouds.

This whole rehabilitation thing might not be so difficult after all! Look at how great Sans has taken being given something that is clearly not a collar as a replacement. What a good skele.

With that thought, you stand up straight and softly pat his head, to which he closes his eyes and hums again. Still a programmed response, but you were always the type to give physical affection. One day his enjoyment might actually be genuine, and you’ll keep doing it until it is or he asks you to stop.

You grab the collar and leash and leave it on the coffee table of the living room, making space in the kitchen so you can actually get the two of you some food. As you wash your hands, you notice that Sans is still standing by your side, eyeing everything you’re doing.

“Is there anything in particular that you wanna eat?” you ask, thinking about what exactly you have in your fridge.

Sans looks surprised again, but after blinking for a few moments he seems to reboot and grins “whatever you give me will be more than enough, master. i like anything you give me.”

Oof, that’d kind of grossed you out. You take a moment to allow yourself to be disturbed by the response, and then think of a way to fix it.

“Well sure,” you say, hoping you’re not grimacing. What had those assholes done to this poor guy… “But I’m asking if you have a particular preference. Since you’ve been so good, I want to give you a treat.”

Nope, wrong answer. Sans just seems more confused “but you already gave me a gift, master. i like anything you give me.”

“Sans,” you say, softening your voice. You’re not going to argue much more about this… today. But another victory would be nice “Getting more than one present in a day is okay, you know. But why don’t you just tell me what foods you enjoy? I can make them another day, if you’d like.”

It seems like the amount of consideration in your words is too much for brainwashed Sans to handle, because his grin comes back in full force and is as fake as it’d been with the lord. You think it might be the most fake his grin can get.

“there is no need, master. i have no preference. anything you give me is my favorite.”

You wince a little at the robotic tone, but recognize that you won’t be getting anything more from this conversation. So instead of forcing the issue, you shrug and begin taking out ingredients out of the fridge. You might come across his favorite by accident, who knows.

“Alright, if that’s how you feel” you say, grabbing the cutting board and starting to chop some onions “You can go do whatever you want by the way, this is your home now so feel free to explore.”

You’re surprised when you don’t get a response, but when you look down you suddenly realize that Sans has sat down on the floor a few feet away from you and is still staring. Completely alert.

“Um…” you cough a little. You have a feeling that life with Sans will be awkward for quite a while “If you want to stay and watch me cook, you can sit at the table. I’m sure it’s much more comfortable than the floor.”

But he doesn’t budge, instead looking up at you with that damned grin “it is quite alright, master, this is where i belong. chairs aren’t for monsters.”

You flinch so hard you drop the knife in the sink, causing it to make a clattering noise that startles you even more. Sans’ grin diminishes a little when he sees your reaction, but he doesn’t stand up. You’re too busy feeling like shit to try to encourage him to sit on the chair again.

‘Chairs aren’t for monsters’? What kind of _bastard_  would say such a thing? Fuck, was Sans just _kept on the floor_  the whole time? Could he not sit on the couch either? Had they even given him a bed to sleep on?

You get increasingly sick the more you think about it. Sans is an intelligent, sentient creature, a human that happens to have a different genetic makeup and magic abilities. He deserves better than to be on the floor like some kind of common pet. The thought of him sleeping in a doggy bed, or worse, straight on the floor, almost causes you to hurl into the sink.

You will not be able to live with yourself if you can’t get him to sleep in a bed. You have to find some way to convince him that he can sit on furniture or you’re going to go crazy from guilt.

“… Sans” you say once your gag reflex calms down. He perks up and stands, but doesn’t move aside from that “I don’t mind if you sit on the furniture. In fact, I would be happy if you did. Please, sit on the chair for me?”

Sans looks conflicted. You figure he simply doesn’t know what the correct answer is; does he do as he was conditioned to, or does he follow his new master’s not-quite-order?

“but master… monsters belong on the floor…” he says quietly, unsure. Scared, almost.

You consider your options. On one hand, you can call this a bust like you had with the food and try some other time, but that would mean that Sans will likely opt to sleep on the floor and you won’t be able to sleep easy knowing that. On the other hand, you can push and try to persuade him to sit on the chair, but that might take a long time and not even work in the end.

As a third option… you could just order him to sit there, and he probably would. But you really don’t like the third option.

You turn from the counter to look at Sans, and you see him immediately tense, though it’s not super obvious that he does. He clearly thinks he has upset you by saying no. That you might punish him. But he’s staying quiet, possibly gauging the situation. Or worse, having already accepted his fate and merely waiting for you to hurt him.

“Sans,” you say, sighing. You saying his name so much isn’t intentional, but you feel like it might help with his de-conditioning, so you don’t stop “You can sit on the floor if you want, I won’t stop you. But you don’t belong on it, okay?”

He looks bewildered. He’s just staring at you and blinking like he thinks you’ve suddenly grown two extra heads. Still, you continue.

“It’s okay if you sit on the floor, but you can sit on the chair if you want. Monsters deserve to sit wherever they please.”

Sans clearly still doesn’t understand. Worse, his vision looks cloudier than before, his eye lights blurry and dilated. It’s as if nobody’s home. He can’t compute you giving him the freedom of choice.

You can only look at him with sad eyes when you see him “reboot” and grin at you again. He doesn’t say anything for a long time, long enough that you can tell he isn’t going to give an answer to your small speech. It almost seems like, to him, the conversation hasn’t even happened.

… This isn’t going to work. Not today.

You feel miserable as you turn back to the cutting board and see Sans sitting back down on the floor from the corner of your eye. Considering he said monsters don’t belong on chairs, he will probably eat on the floor as well, but you won’t try to persuade him to do otherwise. You will fight to get him on the guest bed, but that is the last you will ask of him today. Everything else can wait for tomorrow… you really don’t want to go too fast and risk hurting him. Poor dude needs to be eased into it, not shoved.

You make dinner quietly, only taking the time to grab two plates, silverware and glasses once the food is almost done. When it is, you fork the spaghetti into the plates and set them on the table. Sans has since gotten up and followed you to it, but makes no move to sit on a chair. You’re not expecting him to.

Once you put the forks inside the plates of spaghetti and put water in the glasses, you put the glasses on the floor. Sans looks confused at first, but seems to think they’re for him because he sits in front of them a moment later and looks at them with an unreadable expression. Then, you truly throw him for a loop when you grab the plates of spaghetti and proceed to sit on the floor next to him, an action that causes him to turn his head quickly to look at you with wide eye sockets. Rather than explain yourself, all you do is offer one of the plates of food to Sans, which he ends up blinking at but ultimately grabbing and setting in his lap. He looks first at you, then at it and back, as if to say ‘this is for me?’. Rather than wonder whether or not the bastards who’d kept him had even given him regular food you only smile and begin to eat with no comment.

If you want Sans to get better you’ll have to make some sacrifices… like not eating at a table.

After a bit of just staring down at his plate, Sans grins a little bit more genuinely.

“thank you for the meal, master.”

You can’t help but grin back at him “You’re welcome.”

Eating on the floor isn’t so bad, actually. Yes, your back hurts a little from not having any support and therefore causing you to hunch a little, but Sans is actually eating with gusto and drinking from the glass beside you. You feel a lot better about him not eating at the table now that you’ve found a way around it, since it’s not like he’s eating out of a dog’s food bowl or anything. You’re also glad Sans didn’t try to convince you to sit at the table and just accepted that the floor was where you wanted to be; seems like some things will be easy, while others will be very difficult. You just have to figure out which is which.  
  
It doesn’t take long for you two to finish diner, as you’d gotten incredibly hungry after the run today and Sans had probably been hungry just from how exhausting the day must have been for him. When you two are done, you grab the plates and take them to the sink, letting them soak. You’ll wash them tomorrow… you’re way too tired.

“Well,” you say through a yawn as you stretch “We should probably wash up and go to bed. Must be late as hell by now.”

Sans ends up staring at the soaking dishes for a few moments, almost as if debating whether he should head over and do them himself, but luckily stays put. He gives you that grin of his again, though it seems a little bit more relaxed.

You show him to the main bathroom and tell him to take a shower while you search for clothes he can wear. You realize a moment later that he might have taken that as a command, but he’s already saying “yes, master” and closing the door before you can say anything else. You bite your lip at the possible slip-up, but now that you can’t do much about it you decide to just get on with your task.

You are considerably taller and larger than Sans, so you think that one of your shirts will be more like a nightgown on him and decide to give him one of them, as well as underwear and a pair of socks. You would give him a pair of slippers, but you’d looked at his feet and they’re so small compared to yours, you’re sure he wouldn’t be able to walk in them. You also take the time to make him an outfit for tomorrow, a simple shirt and shorts that are a bit of a tight fit for you and thus might be more comfortable for him to wear.

You leave the night clothes outside the bathroom for him and set out to get yourself some clothes as well, choosing a simple shirt and night shorts combo that will be comfortable. You then remember to grab the leash and collar from the coffee table, and you put them in a box that you then drop to the floor and shove under your bed with your foot viciously, hopefully never to see the light of day again… but you know how the monster law works. If you need to take Sans out you’ll need them, as much as you hate the thought.

The monster law… You still can’t believe that monster slavery has been legal for eight years. You can remember when you’d heard that monsters were real and had gotten out of their thousand year prison, ready to walk amongst humans on the surface. You’d been so excited, so ready to make friends with these new and kind-looking creatures. The few times you’d had the chance to talk to a monster before the slavery law passed it’d been such a pleasant experience that you’d been certain monsters were one hundred percent better than humans. You still believe that.

When the law passed you’d been horrified. You couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw it on tv. To think that humanity would make the same mistakes again, only with a different species… It was disgusting, and you wanted no part in it. As time passed however, you saw more and more people with monster slaves. At first it was random people you saw walking down the street, then your coworkers, then your neighbors… Then your parents.

You’d tried to persuade them, to tell them how wrong it was. They wouldn’t listen. Not because they didn’t agree with you, but because it was useful for them. It was convenient to have a helping hand in the house at their old age, one that they didn’t need to pay. They never treated their monsters badly, but that didn’t really matter in the end. You barely talk to them nowadays.

You grind your teeth together as you remember how everyone you’d once thought to be a decent person turned around and ended up being complete assholes. Even your fiancé had expressed interest in getting a monster, and had gotten angry when you’d immediately shut them down. It ended up being the reason you broke up with them. You couldn’t marry someone who thought slavery was okay… and so you’d ended up in this house that you’d once planned to have a family in, completely alone.

“… master?”

You jump a little at Sans’ voice, turning to face him. He’s standing in the archway of your door, clad in your too-big-shirt and socks. He looks absolutely adorable.

“Ah, you’re out” you smile at him as you get up, grabbing your night clothes “I’ll show you to your bedroom.”

Sans doesn’t comment, looks a little confused again, but follows you anyway. The guest bedroom is right next to yours, so it’s a short walk. Luckily, you have it fully prepped since one of your friends had stayed the night a few days before, so it’s all set for Sans to claim it as his own.

“Here it is” you present it with a flourish, still smiling. Sans stares blankly at it “This used to be the guest bedroom, but it’s yours now. We can get you some decorations in a few days, if you want.”

“… my room?” he asks like he heard wrong, blinking at it in confusion. He then looks at you, an expression of disbelief on his face “master… monsters don’t have rooms.”

You want to be angry, but not at Sans. Rather than explode that, fuck, monsters should have and deserve rooms, your smile softens and you pet his skull again. You don’t get the programmed response this time, but you’re not sure you’re happy about it.

“Well, you do now” you respond, rising your eyebrows as if to challenge him. When all he does is keep staring, you continue “You also have a very comfortable bed. I’d like it if you used it.”

He still seems disbelieving, now staring at the floor with an almost furrowed brow. His voice is quiet “… monsters don’t have rooms… monsters don’t have beds…”

Shit, is he really not going to take the room? No. No, you refuse to make him sleep on the floor. You’ll order him to sleep in it if you have to.

“Sans… Please accept the room?” you try softly.

He doesn’t say no, but he also doesn’t respond. He goes back to just staring at you.

Fuck. Okay, you really don’t want to order him into bed, but you only have one other idea and you’re not very into it either. Still… screw it, you’re getting him to sleep in a bed tonight.

“… Would you like to sleep in my bed instead?”

That makes the fog dissipate, Sans going back to grinning at you. You don’t like that particular grin for some reason.

“sleep? in master’s bed?” he tries to sound ecstatic, but he doesn’t. He sounds kind of pained, actually “i would love to, master.”

“… Great. Come on then.”

You guide Sans back to your room uneasily, feeling like something is out of place. You don’t want to consider the worst, but you’re starting to think that when Sans heard you offer to let him sleep in your bed he understood something else. You’re not stupid, you saw what the lord had been doing to Sans in the alley. You don’t doubt that they’d do it in their own beds too.

You try not to think about it. After all, you just want to sleep, and just want Sans to sleep in a bed. Nothing more. You aren’t going to touch him.

You drop Sans off at your room and go take a shower, hoping that he will get tired of standing and sit on the bed, but once you get back, fully clothed and clean, he’s still standing. You only let out a soft sigh.

As you get into bed and see Sans doing the same you begin to feel a little calmer. Sans isn’t making any kind of move, nor is he fidgeting like he’s waiting for you to do something. He simply gets in, gets comfortable, and closes his eyes.

… This might not blow up in your face after all.

“goodnight, master” Sans smiles as he says it and cuddles further into the pillow, making a sleepy noise that you can’t help but find adorable.

“Goodnight, Sans.”

With that, you turn off your bedside lamp and get comfortable in bed yourself. It isn’t long before you’re in a deep sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS WHERE THE STRONG DUBCON IN THE TAGS COMES FROM!!!! Please take this into account. The dubcon is both from Sans and Reader, though in Sans' case it comes close to noncon because um... he literally can't consent at this point in the story. 
> 
> Besides that, this chapter has the general theme of rape, sexual/general servitude, Sans saying shit that will make you really sad, Reader throwing up because of how fucked up everything is and hating themselves, talk of brainwashing, torture, and sexual torture. Please be careful.

Rather than float in a mess of incomprehensible dreams as usual, you find yourself in an extremely dark space.

Dark, darker, yet darker.

You can’t see a floor, a ceiling, or any walls. You’re just floating in this never-ending void.

You want to write it off as a strange dream, at first. After all, you have just gone to sleep, so what else could it be? But then, in the near distance, you see a figure appear. It’s tall, body as black as the void around you, and has a completely white face. You squint at it, trying to distinguish its facial features, but just as suddenly as it appears, the figure is gone.

Only to reappear a few seconds later right in front of you.

You yelp in shock and terror, stumbling backwards and falling onto your behind. The figure towers over your fallen body, staring with a creepy smile and empty black sockets. It kind of… reminds you of Sans a little, if you take out the cuteness and replace it with HORRIFYING.

 **“Human”**  the figure begins, grinning sinisterly **“You have done it. You have rescued my son. For that, I am forever grateful.”**

… Ah. You feel your metaphorical hackles relaxing when the figure identifies itself as Sans’ parent, as well as the ghost who had gotten you into this mess in the first place, but you don’t lower your guard. If they’re grateful, then why are they grinning like that?

“… It was no problem” you say a little shakily as you will yourself to stand up, brushing yourself off a little as you do. You stare wearily into the ghost’s empty eye sockets “I wanted to help Sans anyway.”

You then take a moment to look around at the black void, hugging yourself with uncertainty “By the way… Where are we?”

 **”This is the void, human. It is in a different plane of existence from where you normally exist… Or rather, it is the space in between your plane of existence and others”**  they say, their grin lowering slightly **“I apologize for dragging you here, but I need to speak to you rather urgently.”**

“Speak to me, huh…” you mutter, only getting more freaked out the more the ghosts speaks. How the hell had they dragged you somewhere outside your plane of existence?! “Well… I would appreciate it if you could make it short. This place gives me the creeps.”

The ghost laughs softly **“I understand. If I had a choice, I would not be here either”**  they suddenly get an arm from the formless blob that appears to be their body, offering their white, skeletal hand to you. It has a hole in the middle of it… but you grab and shake it anyway **“My name is W.D Gaster, child. As I have already told you, I am Sans’ father, and used to be the Royal Scientist back in the day.”**

The words don’t surprise you, but hey, Gaster’s a ghost who’s managed to drag you between planes of existence as you slept. He could say he used to be the queen of Spain and you probably wouldn’t be fazed at this point “You can call me Angel. Local dunce, and mostly just a regular boring human. It’s… nice to meet you?”

 **“The feeling is mutual”**  Gaster’s smile quickly becomes a sad frown however, and the change in tone makes you jump slightly as he lets go of your hand **“I understand this situation must be… overwhelming for you. I apologize for saddling you with this enormous responsibility, but I did not have many options left, you see.”**

He turns away from you, staring at the endless void **“I can see everything from here. The past, present and future. I knew that the last chance to save Sans was in that alley, and you were the only one not only close enough but also capable enough to ask for help.”**

“I get it, but…” you cross your arms, still a little miffed “I really would have preferred actually being _asked_  rather than moved to do it against my will. Hell, you wanted me to kill the lord at first!”

**“I see now that was a little much to ask of you… but please understand- At that moment I was an angry parent looking to protect my child.”**

That makes you uncross your arms and look down with a bit of regret. You can’t truly understand as you don’t have a kid, but you’re quickly growing fond of Sans and the thought of him getting hurt any more pains you greatly… You can’t imagine how Gaster must have felt in that moment.

 **“But regardless of how I might have been feeling at the time, I should have known that I could not make you kill them. Asking you to rescue Sans was already too much. I apologize”**  he sighs softly, turning to look at you with a smile once more. It doesn’t look nearly as creepy anymore **“Yet, despite my blunders, you still saved him. I have been monitoring your actions for the past few hours, Angel… and I must say, I am fairly impressed.”**

You startle, surprised. He’s impressed at your meager attempt to help? You haven’t even done much! “But I didn’t-”

Gaster shoos the thought away **“Nonsense, you have been exceptional thus far. Sitting to eat on the floor with him when he would not take a chair, offering your own bed when he would not take the room? Not everyone would have thought to do those things, or if they had, they would not have bothered. You are a very kind person, Angel. I can tell you care for Sans’ wellbeing.”**

You pause at that, feeling a little embarrassed. Still, you answer honestly “… I do. I want to help him get better, I just…” you sigh, rubbing at your arm, unsure “I don’t know _how_ …”

He gets slightly closer, but you no longer feel threatened and allow him to pose a hand on your shoulder with nothing more than a curious look. He appears sad, but very grateful.

 **“I understand, Angel. I do not expect you to magically make him better immediately. In fact… I do not expect you to make him better at all”**  his smile only gets sadder **“From what I have seen, there is a chance that he will remain this way until he dusts. It is a small chance, but it exists.”**

The thought makes a knot appear in your throat.

Sans might never get better? He might call you master until he dies, never sit on a chair, believe he is nothing but a toy for others’ amusement _forever_?

The thought is too heart wrenching, and you decide then and there that you will not dwell on that possibility. Gaster has just said it is a small chance… Don’t think about it.

 **“All I expect from you is to _try_ , and to keep him safe, Angel. Any amount of progress that you may be able to make is an extremely appreciated bonus”** he seems to realize your struggle, because he pats your shoulder gently **“To be completely truthful, before I saw your efforts I had been planning on threatening you, to make sure you would not think to hurt Sans. I see now that it is not necessary.”**

Gaster’s faith in you is heavy, but also pretty flattering. You smile at him a little shakily, and Gaster returns it with a little more sadness.

**“I have faith that you will do your best to help him… but I am also aware of how delicate the situation is. I would truly loath it if you ended up being inactive because of some sort of fear of making a mistake. Therefore, I wish to reassure you that making mistakes and possibly hurting Sans further is inevitable. He is very volatile at the moment and you do not know the rules by which he operates. Do not lose courage if this happens, or if you believe that your methods might be incorrect. From the possible outcomes that I have seen… you may be forced to do some questionable things in order to further his recovery.”**

“Wait wh- What does that mean?” you frown at Gaster, eyes wide “ _Questionable things_? You- You don’t mean to tell me that I might have to-”

Gaster stops you with a hand. He looks deeply uncomfortable **“Please, I do not wish to think of my son that way. I believe you understand what I have implied, so we will leave it at that”**  he looks to the distance once more, as if unable to look at you **“I trust that you will do your best to help him without doing further damage. I will, of course, do my best to help you in this endeavor, but I cannot interact with your plane for very long, and my power is fairly weak. There is not much I can do but give you advice… but I have been resting for the last few years, saving my strength to give you some materials to work with.”**

You’re still silently freaking out about what Gaster has just implied. You do _not_  like the sound of ‘questionable things’… “Materials?”

 **“Yes. I have managed to acquire official ownership papers for Sans, stating that you are his rightful owner”**  you open your mouth to ask _how_ , but he puts up a hand again **“It is a fairly boring story. All you need to know is that I can push humans to do as I ask if I am careful enough, and it took quite a bit of effort to have officials write those papers.”**

“Okay… But wouldn’t the lord have those papers too? What if he finds out and- I dunno, tries to get him back?”

Gaster laughs lightly **“Oh, worry not about that waste of space, Angel. The mobster and the lord were making a shady deal, neither had proper ownership papers. If I were to speculate, I would say that the mobster stole Sans from someone and burned their papers. I took the liberty to check if Sans was on the records before I had the officials make the papers for you. Rest assured, nobody but you is supposed to have him.”**

Well, that calmed you down a little. You’re pretty sure none of them had seen your face either, so it would be difficult for them to find you… You probably shouldn’t worry about it too much.

You sigh softly “Alright, so all I have to do is keep Sans alive, try to get him back to normal, and not worry too much. Am I missing something?”

 **“No, that is correct”**  Gaster nods **“The papers should arrive sometime today. They will be in a discreet cardboard box, brought to you by an unsuspecting mailman. All you need to do is take the box and sign for it. Simply act natural and it should all be fine.”**

He then puts his hands on your shoulders, and with a smile, gives you some parting words.

**“Good bye for now, Angel. I will be watching.”**

The void slowly becomes darker, and darker, until you can’t see anything anymore- and before you realize, you open your eyes to the sun shining against your blinds. When you look beside you, you see Sans still sleeping peacefully, curled up and snoring very softly.

Okay… that was weird.

You sit up and scratch at your scalp, feeling even more pressured than before. Gaster had clearly been trying to reassure you, and while he had, he had also posed an even bigger bag on your shoulders. To think that Sans’ own dad is watching, a ghost from the shadows, making sure you don’t hurt his child… It’s pretty freaky, no matter how cordial he’d been in your dream.

Still, as crazy as this all is, you can’t let this whole thing make you waste your weekend. You get up slowly, making sure you don’t wake Sans up, and grab a change of clothes, leaving his own nearby so he knows they’re for him. It doesn’t take you long to fix yourself up in the bathroom and dress, and then it’s off to the kitchen to make breakfast for yourself and your new housemate.

It’s as you flip one of the last few chocolate chip pancakes that you hear Sans call out to you.

“… master?” he asks, and you immediately turn your head to smile at him. He looks like he’s just woken up, eye sockets sleepy and eye lights fuzzy. As expected, the clothes you’ve given him fit much better than the ones from last night “what are you doing?”

“Making breakfast” you answer, putting the last pancake on the pile of them stacked on a plate, feeling quite accomplished “I hope you like pancakes. They always brighten up my mood.”

He looks confused again, but settles for walking over to you as you split the tower into two plates. You make sure to grab the syrup and put it on the table before you head over to the coffee maker, grabbing two cups to fill.

“By the way, Sans” you say as you pour yourself a cup, making sure to leave room for milk “Do you want coffee? I can always get you some tea, milk or orange juice if you don’t.”

When you turn to look at him you’re a little disappointed to see him already sitting on the floor and staring up at you with little comprehension, but you’re determined to start the day with a win. You pour less coffee on the second cup, and then fill the rest of them with milk. You also add a bit of sugar before you walk over to the table and rest them there.

Sans doesn’t seem too fazed this time when you pass his plate of pancakes and silverware to him, so you think this may be something he can get used to quickly. He also doesn’t comment when you put the two mugs on the floor and sit down beside him with your own plate of pancakes, making yourself comfortable before you grab the second mug.

“Here, try it” you tell him softly, pleased when he seems unsure but gently grabs the cup from you anyway, glancing at you every once in a while. You smile encouragingly at him “I made it lighter than mine, but if you like yours darker I can make a better cup for you.”

He still seems like he doesn’t get what’s happening, staring down at his mug like he has never seen the beverage before… which you find particularly upsetting, because it’s a testament to how well he has been trained to forget about everything from his previous life. All he knows is how to be a pet now…

He does end up sipping at it, possibly from mere curiosity, but he grins at you with slightly more awake eye lights after a few sips.

“thank you, master” he keeps sipping at it, almost as if he’s trying to savor it “it’s good, thank you. i don’t need another.”

You beam at the response, having been almost certain that Sans hadn’t even been listening to you when you’d said that. You nod in response and tear into your pancakes with gusto, feeling like your mood has skyrocketed just from that small win.

When you’re done with your cup of coffee you’re about to get up to grab yourself another, but remember that you’d given one to Sans too and peek at him to see if he needs another. His is almost empty.

“I’m gonna go get myself some more coffee. Would you like a refill too?”

Sans first stares at you, then at the cup, and back. It isn’t until you wave your hand in front of his face a little that he at least seems to get that you want his mug, but he looks a little sad as he gives it to you. He perks up however, when you end up coming back with more and offer it to him with a smile, which seems to shock him so much he ends up blinking rapidly with wide sockets at you for a few moments before he actually takes the cup.

“… thank you, master” he says quietly and starts taking sips from his coffee again. You feel like they’re a little longer this time, like he’s not as afraid that this is the only cup he will get. The thought warms your heart.

It only takes a few more minutes for the two of you to finish breakfast, and you’re quick to put everything in the sink with the dishes from yesterday night. You feel like you should really wash them before lunch, but also have the distinct feeling that if you don’t take care of Sans first he will just end up sitting on the floor nearby watching you again.

As such, you turn to him and, as expected, you see him staring at you with that grin of his. Just watching, waiting for you to do something.

“Hey, Sans?” you begin, and he perks up immediately, sockets a little wider and stance the slightest bit more alert. You vaguely gesture to the living room, mostly to the television “I’m gonna be washing dishes for a bit, so how about you go watch tv? I’m sure you must be bored of just staring at me.”

You add a smile and a little laugh at the end for good measure, but it doesn’t seem to do much. Sans still ends up staring at you, uncomprehending, only following your line of sight to the television once before posing his eye lights back on you.

You have to admit… for as much as your wins are euphoric, just getting stares is a little frustrating. You don’t blame Sans, far from it actually; you’re more annoyed at yourself for failing to figure out how to go about the issue, but simply giving up because you can’t get through to him would leave a bad taste in your mouth.

So you try again, this time with less words “Do you want to watch tv, Sans?”

This time it almost seems like Sans understands, but it still doesn’t go in your favor, because the look on his face is akin to a kicked puppy.

“i can do the dishes, master” he says, though somewhat quietly. He even fidgets a little in place “… i promise i will not to break anything.”

The response surprises you, but like hell you’re gonna make Sans wash the dishes. You smile softly and gently walk him to the living room instead, hoping some more hands-on prompting will get him to do something other than serve, like it had with the coffee.

“That’s okay, Sans, I can do it” you gently sit him down on the couch, which you’re surprised he doesn’t bristle at, but he seems too occupied trying to understand what you’re saying to notice. When you hand him the remote, he looks down at it like he has no idea what it is “You’ve been working hard lately, I just want you to relax for now.”

In all honesty you don’t want Sans to work ever, the whole thing reminding you too much of the fact that he’s technically a slave that has only been given access to his magic because he’s been so well trained, but you figure that if- _when_  he gets better, he’ll need something to do around the house that isn’t watching tv. You’ll think about that when you get there though. For now, you just want him to focus on his recovery.

When you start going back to the kitchen, you hear Sans let out a confused “master?” but you keep walking, exclaiming “Just relax!” and hoping he’ll manage to get the hint. If you end up seeing him in the kitchen staring at you, you guess you’ll just have to drag him back to the couch.

You start doing the dishes at a relaxed pace, humming to yourself. You feel a little sad that you don’t hear the television come on, but you don’t see Sans in the kitchen either, so you count that as good enough for now.

As you lose yourself in the fairly boring task of washing dishes though, you can’t help but think back to Sans. What you still don’t quite get is why he sometimes looks so confused, even seeming like he hasn’t heard what you said at all. You start thinking about patterns. What do the times Sans has listened to you have in common compared to the times he has just stared at you, and how do they both relate to the times he has outright refused you?

From what you gather, it has to do with how much what you’re saying clashes with how he’s been conditioned. Things like the bed and the chair had gotten a fairly strong response, like he’d been adamantly told monsters belong on the floor. He’d also been very set on saying that whatever you give him is his favorite, at least when it comes to food. That could point toward him being conditioned to not question whatever he’s given, that he should merely be happy to have anything at all.

You feel like the times he has answered positively were because the situation you’d presented wasn’t part of his conditioning. Things like the coffee had probably gone well because nobody had wasted time training Sans to refuse it. It might not have been easy, but you think the fogginess and the confusion stems from the simple fact that you’re offering him something for the sole act of making him happy. The only reason you had for offering him coffee, or to watch tv, was so that his mood would improve from the beverage, and for him to be entertained. Those actions did not benefit you whatsoever, and you think that might be what’s tripping Sans up. He can’t compute that you’re doing something for his benefit, but he also hasn’t been particularly conditioned to simply reject it, so he can only stare in confusion.

As you finish drying the washed dishes and put them away in their proper places, you feel like you understand Sans’ current condition a little more. You take the time to check on him and feel a little disheartened when you see him sitting on the rug in front of the sofa, staring at the black, off screen of the television. You sigh softly, but try not to dwell on it, slipping into your room so you can grab your laptop and head back to the living room.

Sans perks up when he sees you enter, giving you a grin that you return as a soft smile. You sit down on the couch behind him and pat the cushion beside you, fairly sure that it won’t make Sans sit next to you, but still wanting to try. As expected, Sans just narrows his eyes nervously at your action and stares at the television, practically ignoring your offer. At the very least that had confirmed your theory a little; he hadn’t looked confused or lost, he had outright refused and ignored you.

You make a mental note as to what some of the conditioning phrases are, the few ones you know about so far being “Monsters belong on the floor”, “Monsters don’t have rooms” and “Monsters don’t have favorites”.

You open your laptop and turn it on. As it boots up, you have the brilliant idea to turn on the television, even though you won’t be watching it. If Sans thinks you turned it on simply because you wanted to rather than for his benefit he might actually watch it. You carefully study his face as you change channels, trying to find some minute difference that tells you he would like to watch any particular channel.

It isn’t until a documentary about space comes on that you see a spark of life in his eye lights, and you smile as you put down the remote. There, that should keep him happy for a bit.

Feeling a little more content, you open up your browser, fingers ready to research some more about what’s happening to Sans- but you pause. You have no idea what you’re actually looking for.

What should your searches be? “How to decondition a monster”? No, that would get you on some sort of watch list, and you probably wouldn’t find anything anyway. “What to do if your friend has been kidnapped and brainwashed”? It’s unlikely you will find anything useful.

Unsure, you type in “How to help someone who has been psychologically abused.” While you do get a few articles about emotional abuse and how to work thorough it, none of them are close enough to Sans’ situation to be any sort of useful. There’s nothing saying how to turn back someone who has basically become a living doll whose only purpose is to serve, more how to help someone who is in an abusive relationship. Which is great! Just not what you’re looking for. You also try “How to decondition someone”, but you literally get the opposite of what you want. It’s just articles saying how to condition someone to do what you want, rather than how to reverse the process. Normally one would just take them to a therapist rather than look it up on google, but you can’t do that. Sans is a monster, he’d never get accepted.

You sigh in frustration, tapping a finger on your keyboard. What else can you try? Could you somehow use the knowledge of how to condition someone to your benefit? You hesitantly open a few of the pages, but most of them talk of pavlov and are not useful at all. You’re fairly certain Sans has been conditioned through torture of some kind, but you’re not sure what-

And that’s when you think of it. Looking up “How to decondition a monster” would be a bad idea… but no one would bat an eye if you search for “How to _condition_  a monster.” You’ve heard about there being certain webpages around the issue, assholes sharing how they’d trained their monsters and how others could do the same. If you could learn how exactly Sans had been turned into this… maybe you could figure out how to reverse it.

Feeling brave, you type in “How to train your monster” and press enter. You’re not disappointed in what you find.

There is plenty of material, but the first result is actually the goldmine. There’s a thread on a page made specifically for monster owners about how someone has figured out the ultimate way to train a monster, and the top post has so many upvotes and comments that despite feeling sick to your stomach from seeing all the lowlives that share a species with you, you feel hope blossoming in your chest.

You start reading, trying to see if it’s of any use. What you find is fascinating, incredibly helpful… and horrifying.

 _“Monsters are actually pretty tough when it comes to their noggins”_  it reads _“Conditioning one the normal way is no joke, those little buggers are stronger against suggestion that us humans are, and it will take you a long time to make them listen to you. Pain, pleasure, rewards and punishments might work in the long run, but not fully. But I figured out that by manipulating their souls, training them is actually really easy. After all, the soul is the culmination of the being, and we know that monsters’ weak points are their souls. I just put two and two together.”_

The thought that these people are actually messing around with monsters’ souls makes you shudder in disgust. You really don’t want to know any more… but you have to. For Sans.

You keep reading.

_“The process isn’t difficult. The hard part is making sure the monster doesn’t dust during the process, but keep a few healing items next to you that you can force down its throat when its hp gets too low and you’ll be fine. I recommend restraining it too, because you don’t want it thrashing- and it **will**  thrash, and scream- and possibly hitting its own soul. That’s the recipe for a dead monster.”_

There’s a video below. You’re shaking as you consider clicking it, but the description says it is just a simulation and that nobody in it is actually torturing a monster, so you breathe a sigh of relief and shakily, you press play. The instructions are on the video in floating text, and seem disgustingly simple. Once you get the monster’s soul out, all you have to do it grab it with your two hands and touch it, massage it a little. Even though it is only a plush of a heart that the hands are touching, it feels extremely graphic, considering that’s meant to be a soul.

_“First, make sure to keep it isolated in a small, dark room during a week or more while you do the process. Then, project your intentions into its being. You want it to obey, to only listen to what you have to say. Tell it you have control over it, that it only lives for you now. Do this once a day. Add some torture and humiliation, never hurts to be safe after all. Also, if there is any command that you specifically want it to follow, say, having it bring you the paper every morning, make sure to repeat “You will bring me my paper every morning” while you’re touching its soul. Keep doing it until it actually brings you your paper. Trust me, it will happen.”_

You actually have to shove your laptop away from you and rush to the bathroom to vomit into your toilet, and it isn’t until most of your breakfast is down the drain that you start to calm down. You rest your arms on the bowl and press your forehead to them, absolutely revolted.

How could someone do such a thing? How can this be something that so many people have seen and consider okay? How can this be something that people are doing to other intelligent beings?

There is no doubt in your mind that this is what happened to Sans. Someone had manipulated his soul to obey, and now he can’t escape because his _soul_  has been affected, not just his mind. It’s no wonder his eyes look so foggy…

“… master? are you okay?”

You jump a little when you hear Sans calling for you, and quickly look up from your arms to see him looking concerned from the bathroom door that you’d left open in your haste.

“… Sans” you rasp out, forcing yourself to stand up, though somewhat shakily. You try smiling at him “I’m okay. Guess the pancakes fought back.”

You laugh a little, but judging by the still worried expression on his face he wasn’t convinced. Rather than say anything though, you simply walk past him and back to the living room, where you take your seat once again and grab your laptop from the cushion next to you. You see Sans following right behind you, sitting down on the floor where he’d previously been. He glances back at you a few times, as if making sure you’re okay. You don’t show that you’re not.

Thankfully, Sans is fully immersed in the space documentary again after a few minutes, and you breathe a sigh of relief before reluctantly going back to the page.

There wasn’t much more to be said, thankfully. To your surprise, there is someone asking if the process can be reversed, but mostly to look out for how to stop it from happening.

The op answers _“Reversing this process takes a lot of time and dedication, as well as access to the soul. So, as long as you keep possible Monster Lovers away from your monster you’ll be okay. Just make sure they don’t have access to its soul.”_

So what you’re getting here is that the soul is crucial… That’s not what you were hoping to hear. You start taking notes of the page in a word document, your mind trailing off as you do. Souls in general are extremely private, as well as delicate. The only reason someone should be seeing someone’s soul is either if it’s a monster’s doctor’s appointment, if it’s a fight between a monster and a human, or if… monsters are getting intimate. Humans aren’t as into showing their souls to other humans as monsters are, it just isn’t part of their culture. However, as soon as monsters came up, even humans who weren’t mages were suddenly able to pop souls out with some practice, so it’s no wonder that the bastards of this forum had been debating this.

Getting the soul of someone who doesn’t want to show it out is difficult, but it’s easier for a human to get a monster soul out and vice versa than to try doing it to their own species. It has something to do with the monster combat system, but since monsters were enslaved not much more is known about that.

Having your soul forced out of your body… It is an awful experience. It no doubt must contribute to the conditioning method.

As you get out of your own head you realize you’ve put down quite a few ideas as to what to do with the information you’ve collected. You’re obviously on the right track by treating Sans like a normal person, and compromising when he just outright refuses like you’d done when you’d sat on the floor beside him to eat… But from what you’ve read, just like it is incredibly hard to break a monster without touching their soul, it will be incredibly hard to reverse the effects without doing it too.

So… As much as you really don’t want to, your first order of business is to figure out how to get your own soul out of your body so you can later do the same for Sans’. After that, you need to figure out a way to get Sans to _let you_  get his soul out. Forcibly ripping his soul from him would only hurt him more, and also you _do not want to do that_ , so you need it to be done willingly. And then… you need to figure out what you should say to him, what kind of intent you should project to help him come back.  
  
It sounds like an incredibly difficult process, to say the least. You’ll need to take it one step at a time.

At that moment, the doorbell rings, and you get up immediately, seeing Sans perk up and stare at the door from the corner of your eye. Could that be Gaster’s package?

Turns out the answer is yes, because you’re given a fairly weighty cardboard box and a digital screen to sign on before the mailman is on his way. Sans follows you around as you put it down on the coffee table and open it, glad to see that it is indeed what the ghost had promised you.

Sans looks like he wants to ask what’s in the box, but he doesn’t speak. He just stares in curiosity with that grin of his.

“Welp” you say, mostly for his benefit “Now I won’t be worrying anymore. Good thing these people transport paperwork so quickly.”

That seems to strengthen Sans’ curiosity, and you’d probably given him courage to speak when you’d basically invited him to say something. Therefore he speaks with relative confidence as he looks at the papers in your hand.

“paperwork? what for, master?”

“You, actually” you smile down at him and pet his skull. He closes his eyes, but doesn’t hum. Progress? “These papers are what gives me the security that no one will come take you away.”

You purposefully avoid saying that they basically state that you own Sans, but he catches on anyway, nodding “oh, the ownership papers. that’s good.”

That is all he says however, and your smile sours a little when you realize that, because he’s conditioned to not speak out of turn and obey your almost every whim, Sans is a poor conversationalist. You basically can’t talk about anything with him right now… That’s sad. You’d really like to get to know him…

You shake your head softly and grab the papers, turning to Sans with a shaky smile “I’m going to spend some time in my room, sift through these papers. If you need me just knock, okay?”  
  
You brighten a little when, rather than look lost, he nods and goes to sit back on the rug, staring at the television that you haven’t turned off. So if you’re just informing him on what you’re going to do he won’t get foggy. You make a mental note of that.

You get to your room, making sure to put the papers into a folder with a clear label and store them somewhere safe. Then, you close the door and lay down on your bed, closing your eyes.

Okay, from what you know getting your soul out is fairly simple. All you have to do is relax, feel it, and want it out. It’s easy in theory…

Turns out that in practice, it’s actually really hard.

You spend about two hours attempting to call your soul out with no luck, and you end up deciding that you need a break or you’ll tear your hair out. You pass by the living room on your way to the kitchen and see that Sans is still staring intently at the television as the host talks about the wonders of black holes. He really likes space, huh? You’ll make sure to remember that.

You grab a glass of water and go back to your room, getting your laptop on the way, thankfully without disturbing Sans. Once you’re in your room again you open your laptop to the word document you’d been writing before, taking a sip of ice-cold water. Since calling your soul out is a bust for now, you should probably figure out what type of intent you’re going to be sending Sans once you actually try reversing the conditioning.

The first thing you think of is “love”, but will you even be able to do that? You care a lot for Sans already… maybe a little too much considering the short time, but it’s too soon to care _that_  much, even for you. The second thing you think of is “freedom”. After all, he’d been conditioned with “obey”, hadn’t he?

Ok, freedom… How should you go about that one? Should you just tell him he’s free to make his own choices, that he’s his own person? … You do kind of like the sound of that. You write it down. You decide to sprinkle in some of your own genuine care as well, to show him that you don’t only mean him no harm, but also care about him. After a bit of deliberating, you write “healing intent” as well. Him knowing that you want to help, to heal him, should do some good.

You only stop to make and eat lunch with Sans, and from how slow he eats his burger you have to wonder whether he loves it or hates it. You _think_  it means he’s savoring it like he had with the coffee, but since he can’t be honest with you you’re not sure. For now you’re choosing to be positive and thinking that he likes it.

Then it’s back to the drawing board for you, making sure to get Sans back to the living room and in front of the television before you go back to practicing soul extraction. This time you’ve left him on a cooking show, since nothing had seemed to interest him too much. You hope he won’t be too bored, because you can’t really entertain him right now.

“Okay, Angel. Concentrate” you whisper to yourself, slowly breathing in the scent of the lavender candles you’ve began burning in your room, hoping they will relax you further. Any other source of light is off, and you’ve put on a peaceful spotify playlist with soothing piano songs. This better work “Just calm down. Your soul is there. All you need to do… is pull it out.”

Just like before, you make some vague motions around your chest, pretending to reach into it, grab something, and gently pull it out. And just like before, it’s not working.

You try being more forceful. You furrow your brow, concentrating on your want to have your soul out.

_\- Get out. I want you **out**. -_

But instead of doing anything, it almost feels like your soul’s burrowing even further inside your chest. There’s a pressure on your thorax that hadn’t been there before, and you pose a hand on top of it with a worried frown and a slightly closed throat.

Pressuring it to come out is just giving you anxiety…

You sigh, letting your arms fall beside you on the bed. Is there something you’re doing wrong? Can it be you just can’t do this? Then how are you going to… Sans can get his soul out himself, but you’re not sure how easy convincing him to do that will be, you _need_  to be able to do it just in case. There must be something you’re just missing here.

You resolve to try a different method, trying to relax your body once more and letting any thought of accessing your soul drift away. That’s not important right now. It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t come out. You think about lying on a beach, listening to the sound of the waves hitting rocks. It’s a nice, sunny day.

Sans is beside you. He’s sitting back on a towel, propped up by his hands as he stares at the sky. He looks happy, grin lazy and relaxed. His eye lights are fuzzy at the edges, but it’s because he’s happy. When he turns his head to look at you his genuine grin widens, and he asks you if you like the stars. When you look back to the sky, you realize that it’s become nighttime.

You take a moment to appreciate the view, only smiling wider when the sky slowly gets illuminated by a meteor shower. The night breeze is peaceful, though a little cold, and you can’t help but let out a soft laugh when Sans shivers and shuffles closer to you, until he’s leaning against your side. He’s surprisingly warm, and you only feel warmer as you wrap an arm around him and bring him a little closer. His bones are smooth like marble and surprisingly comfortable.

He closes his eyes and sighs, nuzzling his cheekbone against your arm. Seeing him so carefree brings you so much joy. You want to capture the moment in a photograph, to hold it dear forever…

A bright light shining against your eyelids brings you out of your fantasy. It’s only as you slowly open your eyes that you see a royal blue heart hovering above your chest, shining, love pouring from it in waves.

… You’ve done it. You’ve gotten your soul out! You grin stupidly and hurriedly sit up, cupping your hands under the floating heart as if afraid that it will fall and break. The heart looks see-through like glass, and yet, when you touch it with a small gasp, you note it has a plush texture. It’s so beautiful… If _your_  soul is this pretty… then damn, Sans’ must be gorgeous. You’ve heard that monster souls are a bright white, like a small pocket star. You can’t wait to see it.

Feeling accomplished, you slowly return your soul to your body. You call it out a few more times by recalling the scene at the beach, and after you pull and send it back for a full ten minutes you’ve mastered calling it out by merely thinking of happiness and love. Phase one complete!

You might want to get onto phase two soon… checking the clock, you note that it’s half past six. You’ll need to get dinner ready in an hour or so, and you’d really like it if you could start the reversing process today. The sooner you start, the sooner Sans will go back to normal.

With that in mind, you walk to the living room, where you see Sans still staring at the television, but looking decidedly bored. He’s idly playing with the rug he’s sitting on as he looks blankly at the way a chef sprinkles powdered sugar on a cake. Riveting. The moment he notices you however, he stands up quickly and gives you a grin, as if he’d never been sitting in the first place.

“are you done, master?” he asks, walking until he’s beside you, grinning up at you “you were in your room for a long time.”

“Oh. Yeah, I’m done” you say, a little surprised. Did Sans’ owners spend more time with him usually? Maybe he’s just not used to not being ordered around “Actually, I uh… Kinda need you for this next part.”

That makes him fully alert, his eye sockets wide as he bounces lightly on his feet, acting like there’s nothing he would like more than helping you out.

“you need me to do something?” he asks ‘eagerly’. You can see the cracks in the facade, but he’s fairly good at the act. That only makes it sadder “i will do my best, master!”

“I’m sure you’ll do great” you say, leading him back to his bedroom. You pause for a moment though, wondering whether it’s even a good idea. Will this give him incentive to be in it or will it make him stay away? You guess it all depends on how well this goes… “For now I just need you to sit on the bed for me. Can you do that?”

You really don’t want to do this on the floor, but luckily for you Sans understands what you ask and shuffles over to do so. Underneath the happy-go-lucky act he’s got going on you can tell he’s nervous. He’s fully awake right now and doesn’t know what you want from him. You’re starting to really regret picking a bedroom, it’s probably giving him some wrong ideas, but… Having your soul out generally leaves you feeling vulnerable, you’ve experienced that numerous when you were practicing, so you want him to be as warm and comfortable as possible.

You sigh and grab the doorknob, but stop yourself before you move it even an inch, conflicted. You kind of want to close it all the way, but… Won’t that make him feel trapped? Though having it open is too exposing… You settle for leaving it halfway. Not too vulnerable, not too caged.

You walk to the bed at a relaxed pace and sit down on the side opposite to Sans, taking the time to get your slippers off and shift to sit on the bed fully. Sans follows your lead, although he has no slippers to remove.

“Okay” you begin, breathing in and then out slowly. Preparing yourself for what comes next “This is probably going to be weird for you, but I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”

Sans immediately nods, but you can tell by his expression that it’s more him saying he’ll do as you ask, not that he actually trusts you… though after only two days you’d be surprised if he did. The smile you direct at him is crooked and worried, but you need to keep going. Like Gaster had said, you can’t remain inactive because you’re afraid of hurting Sans. You have to do this.

“… Can you summon your soul for me?” you try, letting your smile become softer, kinder.

Sure, you can pull it out yourself, you’ve spent most of the day figuring out how to do it after all… but if possible, you want him to give it to you entirely on his own. You will only pull it out yourself if he’s hesitant.

And boy, is he hesitant. His grin is on the verge of collapsing, and you can actually see his hands shaking a little as he poses them on top of his ribcage, as if protecting his soul.

“I promise I won’t hurt you” your voice is gentle as you reach out to him with a hand. You don’t touch him, you just let it hover in the air in a silent request “I want to help you, but I need your soul to do it. Can you summon it for me, please?”

He doesn’t shake his head or say no, but it’s clear he won’t summon it himself. He’s staring at you with shaky eye lights and worried bone brows, but he does let his hands fall to his lap. You’re not sure whether that’s an invitation or not…

“… Would you rather I pull it out instead?” you try, but quickly backtrack when Sans curls into himself and starts quaking, looking terrified. Your voice comes out fast and shaky “I-I’m not gonna force it! I wouldn’t do that to you, honest! I… I just want to help you.”

You don’t know how much of that reaches Sans, but after a few more minutes of him shaking and you reassuring him that everything’s going to be okay, he finally uncurls. His whole body becomes a rag doll, his eye lights looking down at the covers of the bed. A few seconds later, you feel a bit of static in the air as a bright light shines under his shirt. You gently call for his soul and wave your hand so as to ease it out, but Sans’ face scrunches up and nothing happens.

You bite your lip. Fuck, he doesn’t trust you at all. He’s not trying to give his soul to you and failing, he’s giving up on keeping it safe in his chest and only barely holding on to it. He’s basically waiting for you to rip it from him…

You sigh softly and slowly shuffle closer to him, slow enough that Sans only stiffens slightly. When you’re close enough, you gently grab his hands and hold them in yours. He looks first down at your joined hands, and then up at you, eye lights small and quivering.

“I won’t hurt you, I _promise_ ” you whisper, soothingly rubbing your thumbs over his phalanges “All I want is to help you. I need your soul for that. Please call it out?”

But all that Sans seems to be hearing is that you want his soul, because his hands tremble even more. Your eyebrows furrow in worry when you see teal tears gathering at the corners of his sockets.

“h-have i been bad, master?” he asks in a watery voice, his whole body still shaking. He makes a little whining noise and curls into himself as much as he can with you still holding his hands, closing his sockets tightly “i-i can do better, i swear! p-please don’t t-t-train me!”

Oh _shit_ \- Of course he’s freaking out, he thinks you’re asking for his soul to condition him further! The thought makes your stomach protest, but you limit your grimace of disgust to a few seconds before you smile at him again, gently letting go of one of his hands to softly pet his skull.

“There won’t be any of that, Sans. But…” you have no idea what more you can do to convince him… You’re starting to think you’re being too hasty. Maybe if you just give him some time to get used to you and your home he’ll be more willing, and you frown a little at yourself as you consider the possibility “… No, it’s fine. We don’t have to do this today-”

But instead of calming him down, that sentence sends Sans into hysterics, as if you’ve just told him he’s making his punishment worse. That’s probably exactly what he thinks is happening.

“n-n-no! i can-” his bone brows are so arched that they almost touch, his sockets desperate, pleading as he suddenly gets his hand out of your own to grab at your shirt. It’s so uncharacteristic that you flinch, even as Sans’ voice rises “i can take it, i can! p-please master, i can-!”

He breathes out sharply, jerking his head to the side with eye sockets clenched tight, his hands clutching at your shirt. Suddenly, the bright light under his shirt phases through it, and his soul ends up staring you in your shocked face.

“p-please…” by this point his tears are falling in small rivers down his cheeks. He slowly lets go of your shirt to hug himself, and he sniffs as he shuffles a little away from you “be gentle…”

You’re suddenly burdened by a choice. Do you give his soul back, possibly stressing him out further, or do you go through with it in his current state?

… You have a feeling that if you don’t do this now, you might never have the guts to try it again.

And so you gently, oh so gently, guide a still trembling Sans to lie on the bed, head on the pillow. He still looks terrified, but does as you silently ask, grabbing at the bed’s covers like he’s bracing himself for pain. You give him a sad smile as you carefully cup the soul with your hands and guide it closer to you, still not touching it.

It truly is as beautiful as you’ve heard. An upside-down heart, white like the clouds and shining with love, hope and compassion. It truly does look like the most gorgeous star you’ve ever seen… and yet it’s so horrifically hurt. You can see hairline fractures all over it, the horrible intent of the people who had turned him into what he is now festering in the wounds with an ugly yellow/green light, akin to an infection.

“Oh, Sans…”

You actually feel tears gathering in your eyes. It’s a little ridiculous how unbelievably protective of this monster you’ve become in such a short time… but how long it’s been doesn’t matter. What matters is that you care immensely, and you want to save him at any cost.  
  
You really don’t know what you’re doing, but you first focus on sending the intent for him to calm down and relax as you ever so slightly brush your fingers over the soul. Sans flinches hard at the first touch, but only shakes with the rest, sockets still clutched tight. It takes a few minutes, but the shaking eventually slows down until it’s barely noticeable, and he opens a socket slightly to peer at you.

You smile as you allow yourself to touch a little harder, but just the slightest bit. You try to project the promise of freedom and healing intent as you do, your features softening just from thinking about it, your eyes begging this to help even the slightest bit. It seems to be working a little, if Sans shuffling and making confused noises is any indication. You don’t quite understand why his cheekbones are starting to color a light blue, but you figure it just means that you’re doing something right and that it feels nice.

It’s as you begin to project how much you care and start actually rubbing at the soul that Sans gasps and arches slightly off the bed with a shocked expression, causing you to jump in surprise and pause. Sans pants a little, still looking shocked, now with bright blue cheekbones. He turns his eye lights to you, blinking.

“m… master?” he whispers, astonished, slowly letting go of the covers and sitting up. You can’t do much more than stare at him, uncomprehending “that… doesn’t hurt.”

“It’s not supposed to” is your happy response, your confusion giving away to relief. You’re definitely getting somewhere “I’m not training you, Sans. I will never do that.”

He stares at you for a moment, then at his soul in your hands, and back at you, who’re still smiling gently at him. His eye lights suddenly spark with understanding.

“ _oh_ …” he whispers, his body relaxing a little “i… i misunderstood. i’m sorry, master.”

Your smile only gets bigger. Gently, you begin touching his soul again “That’s okay, no need to apologize. Just relax and let me help you, yeah?”

He nods as if in a daze, but rather than lay back down he crawls over to you and presses his front against yours as if wanting to cuddle. Of course, as someone who never passes down a good cuddle you let his meagre weight push you onto your back with him on top of you. He nuzzles into your neck and you sigh happily, rubbing a little harder.

“mn…” he starts panting a little faster, and you wonder if getting overheated is a side effect from the treatment. You wouldn’t know “that… feels nice…”

“I’m glad it does” you say, projecting even more care and affection into his soul and laughing a little when he whines “I would hate it if you didn’t like it. After all, we’re going to be doing this for a while. ’s not going to be a fast treat-MENT!?”

While you were running your mouth Sans had gotten his face right in the crook of your neck and licked it, causing you to startle and accidentally press too hard into his soul. Rather than yelp in pain, Sans _moans_ , and you _stop_.

You’re suddenly as still as a statue with flaming cheeks, a restless Sans wiggling on top of you and whining.

… Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, _**fuck**_.

How did you not see this coming. How had you not _realized_  what you were doing until it’d gotten to this point?

You know the only reason someone should be touching a soul is either during a doctor’s appointment, or during intercourse. You’d seen some of the commenters on the monster training thread saying it was akin to ‘sexual torture’. How had you not put two and two together?

You’re basically molesting Sans in the hopes of helping him.

You almost drop his soul right then and there, but you recall Gaster’s words- You know that he’d meant this when he’d said you might have to do some ‘questionable things’, there’s nothing else he could have possibly been referring to… He’d basically given you the green light.

You’ve already come this far. Hell, Sans doesn’t even seem that rattled- in fact, he’s still nuzzling desperately into your neck, leaving small skeleton kisses and whining.

“masterrrr” he protests, and you hiss when he starts sucking at your neck, grinding softly against you “please keep going… i’ll be a good boy, please don’t stop…”

You’re a lot more hesitant to rub his soul now that you know it’s akin to stroking his dick- but sexual pleasure isn’t your goal, it’s just a side effect; you’re not trying to take advantage of Sans, you’re trying to decondition him. You keep telling yourself that as you resume your rubbing, your already flaming cheeks only glowing brighter when he moans loudly. You try to keep your mind out of the gutter, but you’re fairly certain that some desire to please Sans slips through every now and then, because there’s no other way you can explain the gasps he lets out randomly.

“master, thank you master-” he pants, and you’re so concentrated on rubbing his soul and sending your positive messages to him that you don’t notice him starting to slide down your body “feels so _good_.”

_\- Freedom, care, help, keep sending him positive intent- **fuck**  his noises are so **cute** \- -_

You’re starting to pant a little yourself, unable to help it as you rub hard at the soul to the chorus of Sans’ delicious noises- but you freeze when you suddenly feel a breeze between your legs.

You quickly look down and what do you see but Sans in between them with a flirty grin, having pulled down your zipper and your underwear. How the hell had you not seen-

“SANS!” you yelp, not noticing him dropping his head between your legs in your outrage. The sudden slimy touch of his tongue on your privates is a suprisingly-not-so-pleasant wake up call. You scramble to sit up, but Sans’ hands are clutching at your legs and you’re forced to leave his soul to float as you harshly push him away from yourself “Dude, stop! What the hell are you doing!”

Sans is befuddled. He’s staring at you with wide eye sockets, propping himself up from where you’ve pushed him into a sitting position.

The confusion quickly turns into distress.

“m-master? did i do something wrong?” his voice trembles “is- is that not what you wanted me to do?”

Now that you have the chance to calm down... you realize that you’re being a little unreasonable. Sans doesn’t understand that you’re trying to decondition him, all he knows is that you’re touching him in a sexual manner, making him feel good. Logically, he wants to return the favor.

If the situation were different, you would be more than happy to let Sans go back between your legs. Hell, you would do a hell of a lot more than just rubbing his soul. But the fact of the matter is that Sans isn’t in his right mind. He _can’t consent_. You touching him is something you can’t avoid, but letting him touch you- it’s not necessary, and feels dirty. Like he doesn’t really know what he’s doing.

“… Sans” you try speaking softly, seeing him getting increasingly stressed out as the minutes pass “It’s okay, I’m not mad… But please don’t touch me. All you have to do is lay back and relax.”

When he just stares at you and only seems to get more upset, tears appearing at his sockets again, you rush to fix it “Sans, I’m not angry, you didn’t do anything wrong. Everything is still okay-”

“w-why can’t i touch you? i- i did something wrong didn’t i, i screwed up-” and suddenly he’s sobbing, hands clutching at his skull “i’m sorry- i’m so sorry master! i can’t do anything right! i’m sorry i’m so terrible!”

You’re frozen in place, no idea what to do. Sans is basically hyperventilating at this point, trying to repeat the word “bad” over and over but unable to because he can’t breathe.

You don’t know what to do, you don’t know how to help, you-

You do the first thing you can think of.

You kiss him.

He stiffens at first, tears still running down his cheeks and his breath puffing out too quickly through his nose. But as you softly brush your tongue against his he seems to melt, gently closing his eye sockets, his breath slowly turning back to normal. When he brings his hands up to tentatively brush against your sides you don’t stop him, no matter how wrong you think it is.

… You feel like you might give up just about anything for this skeleton. Making him cry, even for his own good, feels like someone is stabbing you through the heart. Perhaps the fact that you’d saved him is the main reason why you care so much about him already; you feel committed to protecting him, feel responsible for him.

You only wish for his happiness, and if that means you have to sacrifice some of your Integrity… then you will.

The kiss breaks softly, your hands coming up to gently brush Sans’ tears away. He blinks as if in a daze, and when your hand ends up cupping his cheek he nuzzles into it.

“… master?” he whispers, sniffling a little “am i not… bad anymore?”

“No, Sans. You were never bad” you reply, placing a light kiss on his forehead “You’re good. Very good.”

He only relaxes further when you grab his soul out of the air with one hand and give it a soft touch, all while you lean back onto the bed and drag him down with you using your other hand, gently laying him back on top of you. His actions are more hesitant this time around, but he still nuzzles into you and gives you sweet skeleton kisses all over your neck and jaw. It doesn’t take you long to go back to rubbing his soul with mild intensity, and he goes back to panting on top of you, although he seems to try to keep his wiggles to a minimum.

Shakily, he brushes a hand down your side that eventually ends up cupping your privates. You jump a little, and he stiffens, but you force yourself to relax and keep rubbing and, after a few more tense moments, Sans calms down and tentatively starts touching. It isn’t long before he can grab your dick in his hand, and he slowly starts to move his hand up and down, as if afraid that you will push him away again. When all you do is groan and rub at his soul harder though, he gasps, moans, and jerks it faster.

You have to really concentrate to send those positive feelings into his soul now, your mind almost entirely focused on how good Sans’ hand feels and how amazingly cute his moans are. It does seem to be working though, because you’re positive you’ve never seen Sans this loose and relaxed before, giving you a dopey grin as he lets go of your erection and sits back up. You feel like he’s being daring as he gently lifts your shirt up and starts kissing down your chest, pausing to lick and suck at your nipples. He makes pleased noises when you groan and moan, and you _desperately_  want to bring one of your hands down on Sans, to actually touch him- but that’s the one thing you won’t do. You’re only trying to decondition him, everything else is just a side effect, and you will not participate.

This time you can tell he’s making a line down to your crotch, but you don’t stop him. Rather, you rub harder, using the liquid that’s steadily oozing from the soul to hopefully make the feeling more pleasurable, and thus, possibly distract Sans so much he won’t be able to touch you further. Sadly though, it only seems to encourage him, and he only pauses to keen at the feeling before he’s laving desperate wet kisses down your length. You hiss, your cock twitching in his hand.

“does that feel good, master?” he pants, whining as he licks it, your moaning only making his movements clumsier “i’m a-ahhh- a good boy, right? i’m- mmm… doing well?”

You want to agree, to tell him he’s so, _so good, god how can it feel this **good**  when it’s so **bad** , you really shouldn’t be doing this_\- but you hear the cloud coming over him as he says the words. They’ve clearly been used to brainwash him in the past, so you try to think of something similar and yet different, but Sans is already taking your dick in his mouth and _sucking_ \- and fuck, you can barely think.

“Sanssss…” you groan loudly, biting your lip. You chant every compliment you can think of, feeling delirious as you rub his soul with everything you have, your own soul shining inside your chest from the positive feelings you’re spilling all over the air “You’re so amazing, incredible- _fuck_ \- wonderful, _beautiful_ \- Mm!”

Sans only gets more enthusiastic the more you say, and by this point he’s almost deep-throating you, moaning and groaning around your cock. His soul is a supernova in your hands, shining with so much satisfaction that you can’t stop yourself from giving it a soft kiss.

Sans makes a shocked noise and then _melts_ , his eye lights rolling to the back of his skull as you keep kissing it, _licking_  it, and before you know it his mouth goes slack around you as he groans so deeply the bass reaches your chest. Suddenly you’re coming, but as you slowly come back from your high, you feel the satisfaction of your hands and lips being covered in a light blue, shining substance.

Hell yeah, you’d made him come first.

Curiously, you lick your lips, absentmindedly thinking of how oddly pleasant it tastes compared to human cum. It’s sweet, something akin to a blueberry flavored cotton candy. You feel a little ashamed to admit it to yourself, but you would not mind having more of it at all.

You’re reminded of Sans’ malleable bony lips still being on your length when he gently slips off, making you force back a small whine at how sensitive it feels. Sans proceeds to gulp, and your face burns at the realization that he’s just swallowed your cum. Gosh, that’s embarrassing.

“… thank you, master…” he slurs, looking absolutely boneless and still holding that dopey grin on his face. Gently opening your hands, the still bright but no longer blinding light of Sans’ soul floats daintily over to its owner and phases back into his chest. He lets out a grateful sigh at the feeling of having it back “that was… nice.”

“… I’m glad you enjoyed it” you practically whisper, the ambience still feeling pretty intimate. Slowly, trying to get your afterglow-heavy limbs working, you stand up and stretch “We should wash up, I’ll get dinner ready after.”

Sans nods sluggishly and tries to move off the bed, but he’s so boneless he almost falls off and has to sit back down. You laugh softly and, deciding he is in serious need of spoiling, move over to pull him into your arms in a princess style carry. He startles a little, but quickly gets comfortable and nuzzles into your neck as you walk the two of you to the bathroom.

You’re hesitant to have Sans completely bare-bones around you, considering the fact that he still can’t consent to it… but you feel like some sort of aftercare is important after the intense experience, especially since Sans is basically stuck in perpetual, unwilling subspace. And what better way to begin an aftercare session than with a warm bath?

You take the time to sit Sans down on the toilet lid before you fiddle with the bath’s dials, throwing some aromatic salts in so that it’ll be extra relaxing. Sans watches you curiously, swinging his feet a little from his tall seat.

It’s not too long before the bath is full, so you wave Sans over and motion to the bath “Is the temperature okay?”

Though Sans does walk over and looks down at the tub, he doesn’t bother checking the temperature. Instead, he grins at you.

“if it is to your liking, master” he says, and as he starts taking his clothes off without prompting, looks over at you curiously when he sees you still fully clothed “aren’t you coming in?”

You blush.

Oh. You didn’t even think of that… You do need a good cleanse, but. You’re fairly certain it’s too soon to be taking a bath with Sans… then again it was also too soon to do something like _that_  with him, and it hadn’t stopped you. Is bathing together really that weird after what’s just happened?

Considering that Sans is starting to show signs of concern and upset, you decide that no, it’s not too weird, and begin stripping yourself of your clothes. The cautious expression immediately leaves the small skeleton’s face, the grin coming right back. Dude already has you wrapped around his little brainwashed finger, doesn’t he?

You end up helping Sans in first and coming in after, thankful that Sans is literally a skeleton and thus doesn’t take much space, because otherwise your tub wouldn’t be big enough for the both of you. Your back settles against the tub’s side, and you blush a little brighter when Sans quickly makes his way closer, cuddling into your very naked body. You can’t say you’re comfortable with this, but you’ve made your bed and you’re gonna lie in it.

As Sans keeps rubbing against you like a particularly pleased cat you grab the soap and bring it to a lather in your hands. You try gently rubbing your hands over Sans’ bones to clean them, but the first few touches make Sans pause. You stop, ready to apologize if you’ve made him uncomfortable, but suddenly Sans is caressing your shoulders and down your back.

“Um. Sans? What are you doing?”

“hmm?” he hums, giving you a few kisses under your jaw “just following your lead, master. round two?”

Your blush could probably evaporate half of the bath’s water right now, and you look down at Sans with a scandalized expression… but it quickly shifts to concern. The small skeleton looks completely spent, a few minutes away from falling asleep right there in the bathtub if the lazy grin and half-shut eye sockets are any indication… and yet he’s asking for - no, _offering_  - a round two.

Right. Sans is clearly interpreting this as sexual touching, and since he thinks you’re touching him with the intention of a round two, he’s supposed to - _has to_  - play along. Your stomach rumbles not in hunger, but in displeasure.

You’re obviously not going to force Sans to take any more soul healing when he’s this tired, but he needs a bath, _you_  need a bath, and you want to pamper him a little. So… how to make him see that you’re not intending to touch him sexually?

You look around you for something, anything, you might be able to use, even though you have no idea what could possibly help you in this situation. A few moments later however, you grin as you see it: a washcloth that you rarely use, but might be helpful here. You grab at it with enthusiasm and lather it with soap, biting your lip so that your don’t make any noises that could confuse Sans as he kisses every part of you that he can reach.

“Sans?” he gets his skull out of the crook of your neck and looks up to you with a grin when you address him, looking horribly exhausted “Could you turn around? I need your back.”

Sans seems to recalculate at your words, blinking a few times as if he has no idea what you’ve just said. Thankfully however, it only stalls him for a few seconds before he complies, turning around and leaning forward so that you can do whatever you want to his spine. He startles a little when you start washing his bones with the cloth, but after he peeks at what you’re doing for a few moments, lets himself relax. He slowly ends up shifting forward so much that his sternum presses against the other side of the tub, and he puts his forearms and hands on the edge to pillow his skull. Smiling, you wash as much as you can as slow and calmingly as possible, and delight when you hear him sighing happily in response.

Crisis adverted.

Washing Sans is actually really calming. He makes incredibly cute, happy noises as you clean the back of his rib cage, his skull, his arms and legs, his breath only stuttering a little when you wrap the cloth around the whole of his spine and softly pump it to clean it. You become aware of that, plus his pelvis and the inside of his ribcage being erogenous zones fairly quickly, since he ends up moaning almost the whole time you’re touching them. Aside from that though it ends up being an entirely innocent bath, and by the time you’re done Sans is dozing against the other side of the tub, looking like a lazy kitten.

You take the opportunity to bathe properly without having to skirt around him, and you clean yourself in record time. You then get out and dry yourself quickly, and take as much care as you possibly can to carry Sans out and gently dry him so he doesn’t wake up. The soul healing must have really worn him out, because he makes a few complaining noises as you do but doesn’t wake.

As you carry him to your bedroom and dress the both of you in night clothes, you can’t help but wonder if you’ve actually done anything to Sans’ soul. You didn’t have the chance to check when you’d finished, too focused on giving it back as soon as possible… but now you’re worried that you might be, not just not helping, but actually only making things worse.

 _" **“You may be forced to do some questionable things in order to further his recovery.”** ”_ The words circle around in your mind even as you tuck Sans in and get inside the covers yourself… but they don’t help at all. You still feel like the scum of the Earth.

Dark thoughts swirl around in your head, only making you more and more upset until you’re curled up in a tight ball, pulling at your hair. You try to shake them off like you have all day, but it’s significantly more difficult now that you’re alone with your thoughts, left only with the consequences of your actions.

Who are you even kidding? How does molesting a victim of manipulation, slavery and rape help heal them? It makes no sense. You’ve just intentionally misinterpreted Gaster’s words, haven’t you? The truth is that you’re actually just a horrible person who wants to take advantage of an already broken monster. That has to be it, right? After all, you’re a human. A disgusting, self interested creature who only wants to take what they can from others with no remorse. The fact that practically everyone who you’d once thought decent had bought monster slaves only proves it.

You’re just like them. The worst, an absolute garbage human being. You’ve always suspected it, but this really just goes to show the depths of your depravity.

… You end up crying yourself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case, I want to specify that I neither condone nor demonize Reader's actions this chapter. The way I've set this up, the only way to 'fix' Sans at this point is to do the Reverse Process, and while it's perfectly possible for what Reader does to Sans' soul to be unrelated to sex (like in a doctor's appointment), Sans is too far gone at this point to see it as anything but either a) a punishment or b) sexual. Since Reader shows at the start of it that they're not trying to hurt him, it inevitably falls to the second category. Soooo *shrug* it's not like they have many other options aside from leaving him as he is. 
> 
> I am curious as to what you guys think though. What did this chapter make you think towards Reader? Do you begrudgingly accept that their actions were bad but with the intention to help and believe they should continue? Or do you think they're a horrible person and that the only thing they've done is hurt Sans more? Do tell :3
> 
> Also, if you need a little pick me up after this angst and you like memes, I recommend the 2018 and 2019 songified memes from shmoyoho: "https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AhD6qHCADUQ" and "https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5gBjZFmmpXs" they're super catchy and have helped me cheer up since it's 3:30 am and I cannot sleep. This also means that there might be some editing things I missed. I'll check the chapter again tomorrow and will make sure to fix anything wrong <3 
> 
> (If you're a scaredy cat like me, never, NEVER marathon a series of creepy videos for two days... especially if they're from shane dawson....... you won't be able to sleep. like me)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angel metaphorically bangs their head against the wall with self loathing and phones a friend. 
> 
> This chapter is fairly mild. There's not many warnings needed, but Sans does panic a lot and Angel/Reader ruminates on how much they hate themselves at this juncture. There's also allusions to the fact that Angel/Reader is mildly depressed and that their friend has been worried they might do something they can't take back for a while.

You wake up a few hours later at three am, feeling like your skull took a pounding and your stomach so twisted you can’t even think about eating, even though you hadn’t even had the chance to make and eat dinner. You get up as quietly as you can, leaving Sans snoring softly on your bed as you swipe your phone from its charger and walk to the kitchen, looking like death incarnate. As you do, you send one of the last decent people you know a message, fairly certain that she won’t respond but needing to get it out now.

 **You 3:30 am:**  
**i fucked up. i fucked up so bad monnie.**

You almost type in “i want to die”… but as much as you’re feeling it right now, you don’t want to make your friend panic. Also, you know that seeing that will make her rush over to your house as fast as she possibly can. She’s done it before.

You sniff and rub at your teary eyes with the back of your hand as you send the message, looking around the kitchen tiredly. You know you should eat… but your stomach reminds you of how disgusted with yourself you feel and you’re certain any food you ingest will quickly come back up. Instead, you put water to boil to make yourself some tea. You end up looking around in your fridge anyway though, since the thought that Sans might wake up hungry crosses your mind. If not you can always leave it for later.

As you lazily make grilled cheese sandwiches you hear your phone chime, and you’re so shocked you make the sandwich in the pan jump with you. You quickly turn off the stove and rush to read the message.

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 3:50 am:**  
**Angel? What’s wrong?**  
**Do you need me to come over? You know I will.**

 **You 3:52 am:**  
**nono it’s fine. just a little stressed out**

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 3:52 am:**  
**You sounded more than “a little stressed out” to me.**  
**Wanna talk about it?**

Shit. Should you? What if she’s disgusted by you, never wants to see you again? She’d be in the right but… Monica’s your best friend…

 **You 3:54 am:**  
**i fucked up really badly. i thought i was trying to help, but i’m starting to think i was just helping myself. i feel disgusting**

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 3:55 am:**  
**Angel, I know you. Whatever it is you did, I’m sure you had good intentions.**  
**You can tell me what happened. I won’t judge you.**

You pause. Your eyes are filled with tears again.

 **You 3:56 am:**  
**… you’re gonna hate me. but ok**

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 3:56 am:**  
**I could never hate you.**  
**Lay it on me.**

You take a moment to make your tea since the water’s boiled, and then sit down on the couch with it. You take a few long sips, trying to calm yourself down, before you start typing.

 **You 4:00 am:**  
**ok it starts off really weird, but bear with me. so, you know how i gotta walk through an ugly part of town to get home from work?**

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 4:01 am:**  
**I’ve only told you to take the bus a few thousand times. Did something happen there?**

 **You 4:01 am:**  
**yeah. i was walking close to an alley on friday and… something compelled me to get closer**

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 4:02 am:**  
**Something… compelled you?**

 **You 4:02 am:**  
**there was a weird voice in my head, and… i found myself getting into the alley. i tried to leave, but i couldn’t. something was keeping me there**

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 4:03 am:**  
**What!? Did you encounter something supernatural??? That’s fucked Angel, are you sure you’re ok????**

 **You 4:03 am:**  
**dw i’m fine. it was… kinda a supernatural thing? but i found out it was actually the work of a monster who’s apparently stuck between our dimension and others and needed my help**

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 4:04 am:**  
**Ok you lost me**

 **You 4:04 am:**  
**eh, that part’s not important anyway. basically a ghost needed my help**  
**anyway, while i was in the alleyway… i saw a shady deal taking place**

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 4:05 am:**  
**Omg Angel you’re scaring me, what happened??? Was someone trying to buy drugs??**

 **You 4:05 am:**  
**i’m getting there mon, but no, i wish. there was a dude trying to sell a monster to a richer dude, and this other ‘ghost’ monster wanted me to rescue him**  
**wasn’t easy, but i got him and outran the bastards. took the monster home. found out his name is sans**

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 4:07 am:**  
**Holy shit Angel what the hell did you get yourself into**

 **You 4:07 am:**  
**i know. s fucked. but that’s not the worst part**

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 4:07 am:**  
**How is that not the worst part????**

 **You 4:08 am:**  
**the ghost monster talked to me when i went to sleep. i saw em and everything. turns out he’s sans’ dad**  
**he asked me to keep sans safe, to try and help him. that i might have to do some weird shit to decondition him**

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 4:09 am:**  
**Hold on- “decondition” him?**

 **You 4:08 am:**  
**the guy’s broken monnie. he won’t sit on the furniture because ‘monsters belong on the floor’. he didn’t take the guest bedroom because ‘monsters don’t have rooms’. had to share my bed with him because he was probably gonna sleep on the floor otherwise**

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 4:09 am:**  
**Oh my god…**

 **You 4:09 am:**  
**i know. seeing someone like that hurts like hell, and worst part is that i’m starting to like the lil dude. i can’t imagine how anyone would do something like this…**  
**but they did. found out through a forum that you can brainwash monsters by fucking up their soul with bad intentions, and that the only way to bring em back is to do the same in reverse**

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 4:10 am:**  
**So you have to mess with a monster’s soul to stop them from being brainwashed? That’s fucked.**  
**Wait, shouldn’t monster souls only be touched when they’re… intimate?**

 **You 4:10 am:**  
**as far as i know, yeah. you see the problem**

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 4:10 am:**  
**Oh my god… that poor monster… Is he okay?**

 **You 4:10 am:**  
**… i don’t know. he can’t be honest with me because he thinks i’m his master. he was gonna run back to the asshole who bought him until i said i was… it’s gross monnie**

You start to type faster, wanting to get the worst part out as quickly as you can. Your tea is getting cold, but your stomach is in such a bad state that you don’t think you could drink the rest of it anyway.

 **You 4:10 am:**  
**i tried the whole reverse process today. brought sans’ soul out, sent him good intentions**  
**but i realized the whole intimate thing too late. sans thought i wanted to screw around with him**  
**he touched me and i freaked out. thought i was taking advantage of him**  
**he got really upset monnie. he thought he did something wrong because i wouldn’t let him touch me. he got so freaked out, i didn’t know what to do**  
**so i just gave up. i let him do it**

Tears are blurring your eyes. She has to hate you know, see how gross you are.

 **You 4:11 am:**  
**i basically molested him monnie. i fucked up. i fucked up really badly**  
**i don’t even know how to fix it. i don’t know what else to do to help. all i know is i hate myself right now**

It feels like an eternity to you, but realistically Monica responds quickly.

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 4:13 am:**  
**… Angel.**

Oh yeah. She’s mad.

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 4:13 am:**  
**Even though it’s… sexual, the _only way_  to undo the brainwashing process on a monster is to do the same in reverse. ** **Correct?**

 **You 4:13 am:**  
    **… it is, as far as i know. i did some research, but i didn’t find much more than that.**

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 4:13 am:**  
**Okay… Okay.**  
**I want you to listen carefully to me, Angel.**  
**You’re a good person, I know you are. I’ve known you since we were kids, and the Angel I know always puts what’s morally right above everything. The Angel I know would never, _ever_ , put their personal interests above morality. They would never do anything illegal, would never do anything that might hurt someone.**  
**And the Angel I know would certainly never do the things you say you did if it weren’t because they saw no other alternative, and they thought that it was more morally correct to do it than not.**  
**…. And yet.**

A few minutes pass before the next text, and you can practically feel your heart slamming against your chest.

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 4:15 am:**  
**I’m sorry, Angel, I’m having a really hard time here. No matter from what angle you look at it, what you did was atrocious.**

You flinch hard. Tears run down your face.

 **You 4:15 am:**  
**i know…**

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 4:15 am:**  
**But… As much as I try, I can’t see any other possibilities either.**  
**If this process really is so intricate that normal human methods of rehabilitation don’t work and the _only way_  is to get close and personal to the individual’s soul… then honestly, I would have to say that you were… right?**  
**God, I can’t believe molesting someone is taking the moral high ground…**

You’re full on sobbing now. Of course Monica would take your side, even though you’ve done something horrible… You love her for it, but you can’t help but feel like you deserve to be punished still. You just know she won’t be the one to do it, despite the fact that you can feel her disgust through the texts.

 **You 4:15 am:**  
**if i knew of another way i would be on it in a heartbeat… if at the very least i could make it so that sans doesn’t touch me without having a meltdown…**

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 4:16 am:**  
**Actually…**  
**As far as we know Sans has only had bad experiences with um, sex, right?**

 **You 4:16 am:**  
**as far as we know, yeah**

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 4:16 am:**  
**… Then I’m not so sure letting him touch you was a wrong move.**

 **You 4:16 am:**  
      ** _what?_**

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 4:16 am:**  
**Look, the situation is very delicate. You told me that when you rejected his advances he freaked the fuck out. His mind isn’t stable, and something like that could actually make him collapse completely.**  
**The fact that you calmed him down by letting him do as his conditioning told him to isn’t a shocker. It’s just logical.**

That makes you freeze. You feel your breath puffing faster, anxious.

 **You 4:17 am:**  
**are you actually telling me what i did was right**

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 4:17 am:**  
**Fucking hell Angel, I don’t like it either ok? But I don’t know what else to do!**  
**We literally just said you need to do the opposite of what those bastards did. They turned him into a doll that has to obey, so you’re trying to get him to be a normal, free individual again. They fucked around and infected his soul, so you’re trying to heal it.**  
**They… They sexually abused him and hurt him in horrifying ways… It just makes sense that you would show him a good kind of sex. One that has boundaries, where he has a say in what’s happening, where it doesn’t hurt but rather it feels good.**  
**Doesn’t that make sense?**

You’re speechless.

Is Monica actually defending you right now? Saying that you only did what you had to do… She’s condoning your horrible actions. A Justice soul is saying that you did good.

You think you might be sick.

 **You 4:19 am:**  
**fuck monnie, don’t say that… it can’t be right, it can’t be that i have to molest him to bring him back! the world can’t be that cruel!**

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 4:20 am:**  
**… I’m sorry Angel, but that’s what I think.**  
**It’s fucked up, and objectively wrong, but… If it works…**

You’re still sobbing. The screen of the phone looks blurry.

… You take a moment to reflect before you respond.

 **You 4:24 am:**  
**… i still hate myself right now…**  
**what i did was wrong. i hate that i did it. but… if it really does work, then i don’t have any other choice… do i?**

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 4:24 am:**  
**… I don’t know. Which is why I’m going to help you find out.**

 **You 4:24 am:**  
**… how?**

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 4:24 am:**  
**We’re going to be doing some more research to make absolutely sure there’s no other way. There’s still a chance that you might not have to do this again, and I’ll make sure to cover all of our bases. If it turns out that you do have to… then I’ll ultimately support you. I’ll help you with whatever you need.**  
**Uh, just don’t ask me to bed the monster ahaha…**  
**I’ll sleep for a few hours and then give the internet a closer looksie. If I have time I’ll stop by the library, and then I’ll have lunch over at your house so I can share anything I find.**  
**Is that okay?**

Wow… She would really do that. She would be willing to spend her Sunday just studying books for you, to help you after what you did. You’re delighted by the help, and definitely want her here so that making hard decisions will be a little easier.

Besides… You miss Monica. A lot.

 **You 4:25 am:**  
**it’s more than okay, but…**  
**are you really gonna help me? you heard what i did.**

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 4:25 am:**  
**I did, and I want to help you be better if possible. I know it’s fucked up, but not enough for me to be mad at you. It would’ve been an entirely different story if you’d just assaulted a poor brainwashed monster for the sake of it.**  
**Anyway, gotta go catch a few z’s.**  
**I’ll help you figure something out, don’t worry.**

 **You 4:26 am:**  
**… thank you, monica. you don’t know how much this means to me.**

 **Gorgeous Betch <3 4:26 am:**  
**I might have some idea :)**  
**Goodnight.**

 **You 4:26 am:**  
**night <3**

You still kind of feel like shit, but you’re a lot less tense at the thought of having someone to help you through this. You stretch and yawn as you wonder if you should try contacting Gaster and ask for some pointers… but for now, you should probably try to have a few more hours of sleep. You can talk to Gaster later.

You throw out your cold tea into the sink and then put the mug inside to soak, putting the grilled cheese into the fridge for later. You then walk back to the bedroom with phone in hand, stretching your arms as you do. Sans is still sleeping, looking dead to the world. He stirs a little when you get back in bed, but doesn’t wake. He only nuzzles into his pillow and smiles a little, making you coo softly at how ridiculously adorable he is. How the hell is a skeleton this cute?

You put your phone back on the charger and adjust yourself in the bed. Hopefully you’ll rest a little easier…

* * *

When you wake up this time, it’s to the sound of movement coming from the kitchen.

You immediately jump into a sitting position in bed because you live alone and hearing such sounds from inside your house is _a very bad sign_ \- but then you remember that Sans lives here now too, and when you look beside you there aren’t any cute skeletons sleeping there. He must be the one making noise in the kitchen… What could he be up to?

You take a moment to dress yourself and check your phone, which informs you that it’s 9 am. Shit, Monica will be here in just a few hours and you haven’t even had breakfast! This is tragic. Without much thought, you walk to the kitchen, but stop in your tracks at what you see.

Sans is at the stove, cooking. There is a glass of milk and a plate with a piece of toast on the counter beside him, and you watch him as he lays down two eggs and a slice of cooked ham onto the plate, cuts a piece of butter that he then puts on the toast, and grabs everything in his two small hands. It isn’t until he turns around that he sees you at the kitchen entrance, but rather than jump and spill everything, he stiffens for a few seconds before he comes down from the shock.

For the few seconds that Sans’ grin is gone in surprise, you’re worried. It all comes back to you at that moment- the soul thing. The fact that you’ve fucked up, that you’ve done something sexual with someone who clearly cannot consent in any way shape or form. For those few seconds, you think Sans may regain some form of wits and throw the plate at your head, yell that you’re a rapist, and run away as fast as he can. You feel like you would deserve that.

Instead, once those few tense and horrible seconds pass by… All he does is grin and walk over to you. You can’t help but feel a little disappointed that the world is just letting you get away with this.

“good morning, master!” he greets you, actually sounding more enthusiastic than the last two days. Not that he sounds actually happy or anything, but you can almost feel some genuine sincerity in that grin today. Maybe the soul thing actually helped…? No, probably not. You’re just looking for reasons not to feel like shit “you didn’t wake up at the usual time, so i thought to make you breakfast. i hope you like it.”

“Oh… Wow” you blink a few times in surprise, but despite your extremely sour mood, you manage to give him a semi-happy grin, gently taking the plate and glass from him “Thank you, Sans. It looks delicious.”

His expression shifts, his grin not as energetic. You think he may have noticed that you’re not okay… but you ignore that, instead slightly lowering yourself to sit on the floor.

“Let me just sit-” you say, but before you can you suddenly realize something very important. You look at Sans warily as you straighten “Um... Sans? Where’s your breakfast?”

“in the fridge. i burnt a few things since i haven’t been able to cook in a while, don’t want them going to waste” he doesn’t seem to think this is a big deal, because he just shrugs with his smile never wavering “i’ll eat it later. just wanted to get yours perfect, master.”

You frown down at your extremely perfect breakfast.

Great. As if you’re not feeling shitty enough, Sans just has to go and make you an incredible breakfast and leave the sloppy seconds for himself.

Why is the world allowing this? Why did this sweet skeleton monster have to suffer so much, and now has to indulge you? A selfish, horrible human being like you?

You’ve thought there is no more Justice in this world many times, but… God, just listening to Sans say that he’s getting the burnt food, the bad batch, and that he’s been kept as a pet for so long he’s basically halfway lost the art of cooking he used to possess… It makes you sick.

He doesn’t deserve this. Fuck, he _really_  doesn’t deserve this. You should be being better to him, should be able to figure something out to bring him back that doesn’t involve _molesting_  him. _He’s been hurt so badly and yet you have the gall to take advantage of him? **What kind of sick fuck are you?**_

“m-master?”

Sans’ shaky call brings you back from your dark thoughts. He looks worried, fidgeting in place. For as much as you hate the fake grin he usually has on, the times where it falls are the worst. It makes him look so scared.

“do you not like it? i can make something else! j-just give me a few minutes and-”

“Sans.”

He freezes from where he’d been about to turn around. You can practically feel him shaking.

“y… yes master?”

“… For how long have you been cooking exactly?” you speak softly and slowly, trying not to start beating your head against the table from how much you’re hating yourself right now “Since you say you tried to get mine perfect…”

“… it was eight when i started, and it’s ten… so two hours at most?” he doesn’t sound sure of himself, his eye lights looking at everything but at you. The more he talks, the shakier he looks “i-i’m sorry, i used too much power and g-gas making it, didn’t i? i should have just not cooked at all. i’m r-really sorry, master.”

Fuck. You put down the plate and glass before you manage to break them from how hard you’re clutching at them, raking a hand down your face while you sigh. Every word that comes out of his mouth feels like it’s fueling your self-disgust, and you only feel worse when you try to help and accomplish nothing.

“It’s not that, Sans” you walk over to him as slow as you can, and yet he still flinches when he’s left to look up at you, looking even more terrified with you up close “Thank you for the breakfast, it was really sweet of you to make it for me. If there’s a next time though, please try not to stress out about the quality. I’m sure the first batch you did was fine.”

“b-but it wasn’t!” he protests, looking almost anguished that he’s made such a mistake “the toast got burnt, the eggs were runny, and the ham got singed-”

“Sounds like any normal breakfast I cook before work” you say honestly, smiling as you slowly lift up a hand to pose on his skull, not wanting to go too fast and risk the possibility of Sans thinking you’re going to hit him “I’d be more than happy to eat it.”

He looks at your hand with trepidation, but when you gently place it on his head and pet it, he slowly loses the tension in his body. A soft sigh leaves his nose hole, and he slowly closes his eyes. It almost looks like he’s actually enjoying it, and it lightens your mood a little. A moment later you’re walking away from him and toward the fridge, an idea in your mind. Sans pitter-patters over to you curiously, thankfully no longer on the edge of a meltdown.

“The first attempt is still in the fridge, right?” you ask as you open it.

“yes? but what are you going to do with-”

“Ah, here it is” you find the plate with little to no trouble, feeling victorious as you take it out of the fridge. You then walk over to the stove, waving at Sans “Take a seat, I’m just gonna heat this up for you.”

A glance at him confirms that he’s doing as you ask, though with confusion clear in his eye lights. He sits down on the exact same spot on the floor as yesterday, right beside the chair at the head of the table.

“you don’t need to bother, master” he says, still blinking curiously at you, but seeming a little abashed now “i can eat later.”

“I prefer eating together, personally” you say, getting the food back onto the plate once it’s warm. You walk back to the table with a smile and put down the plates on it, grabbing your glass of milk and Sans’ that you’d taken from the fridge “Besides, you made it. It would be rude to eat it without you.”

As you pass the glasses to Sans, he looks at you with wide sockets, but there’s a bit of happiness in his eye lights. Are you… actually getting somewhere? Did the soul thing legitimately work? With tentative hope in your heart, you grab the two plates and sit down beside Sans, giving one of them to him as well as a pair of silverware.

“thank you, master” he grins, and he’s about to chow down- but he pauses. He looks down at his plate, blinks at it, and then at yours. He looks incredibly confused “… master…? that’s… my plate…”

“What?” you ask somewhat cheekily, taking a bite of ever-so-slightly singed ham. Damn, Sans really has to be a perfectionist to think this isn’t worth serving. It’s so good! If the perfect breakfast is 5 stars, then this is a 4.9 “I told you I’d eat it happily. It’s really good, by the way.”

He keeps staring at you with bewilderment up until you laugh and tell him to eat his, at which point he looks back down at his plate. There’s wonderment on his face as he looks back at you.

“is it… really okay?”

The words make you pause. Ordinarily, you wouldn’t give them much weight, he’s basically asking if the food you’re eating is actually enjoyable… but you detect something deeper in that question. The question is less “is the food really ok for you to eat?” and more “is it really okay if I make a few mistakes? You won’t be mad at me for it?”

You smile “Of course. I’d be more than happy to eat more of it.”

Sans looks back down at his plate, but this time he actually grabs the silverware and forks some eggs. His eyes scrunch up a little in happiness as he eats them. Aw, he really is too cute for this world. You make a mental note to have eggs again and check if they might be a possible favorite food.

“thank you, master. i’m glad you like it” he smiles at you before he goes back to eating. The atmosphere instantly becomes peaceful.

It doesn’t take either of you too long to finish your food, considering neither of you had dinner last night. When you’re done, you take everything and put it in the sink. Sans is immediately next to you, peering at you with a hint of nervousness in his eye lights.

“i can do the dishes, master” he says, but you smile and shake your head. His eyebrows furrow a little at that “… why not?”

“I can do them, ’s no big deal. Besides, I gotta start on lunch in like half an hour. Friend’s visiting” you start washing as you talk “Why don’t you go watch tv meanwhile? Who knows, you might find another documentary on space.”

He perks up a little at that, but seems a lot more interested in the first part of your statement “a friend? are they coming for lunch?”

“Yeah. Her name’s Monica, she’s really nice. I’m sure you’ll like her” you say “She’s really excited to meet you.”

For some reason, Sans’ neutral grin wanes slightly when you mention Monica’s interest in him, and… considering the nauseating conclusions you’ve been coming to about Sans’ life at the hands of dickheads lately, you immediately decide that you won’t think too much about why he suddenly looks a little tense. You don’t want to be too disgusted to stomach lunch.

“is… there anything else i can do to help?” he asks somewhat meekly when you don’t say anything else, fidgeting with his hands “i, um… i could always tidy up a little- not that the house is untidy or anything! that’s- that’s not what i meant-”

“It’s okay Sans, you don’t need to do anything” you say, if nothing else to stop him from freaking himself out further. By now you’re done with the dishes, and you put them on the dish rack to dry as you turn to look at Sans. He looks extremely stressed at the thought of not working though… You rake your head for something fairly easy and non demanding that he can do “But if you really wanna help… I guess you can set the ta-” no, wait, neither of you eat at the table anymore “-the floor… later? If you want?”

Sans’ brows furrow slightly in a bit of confusion at your words, but quickly lets it go.

“of course, master. i’m glad to help” the mere idea that Sans is being somehow helpful seems to relax him instantly, and he happily goes over to the corner of the kitchen he’d sat down at the day before with a grin “just call for me when you want me to do it.”

You open your mouth to tell him he can sit in the living room where, at the very least, there’s a carpet that will make for a much comfier seat than the kitchen floor, but you end up closing it almost immediately.

Let him sit there if he wants… at least until he’s a little better. You can’t fight him every step of the way, that will just stress him out and who knows what that might do to his soul. You feel like you may need to take a few steps back, because you’ve been noticing a few behavioral patterns. When you allow him to follow the rules he’s been flogged to obey he looks, if not content, then at least peaceful. You reason that he doesn’t have to think or feel too much when he does something according to his brainwashing, but actually fighting against those rules seems to pain him. You think he might be scared of coming back because of promises of gentleness and care only to be betrayed and hurt again while his soul is raw and vulnerable. And… While you can’t “understand” because you’ve never been in that situation, you can easily sympathize.

Besides, if you and Monica are right and changing his worldview too strongly and suddenly will finally break him entirely… then you need to be really careful from now on. You can’t let him panic.

“… Okay, Sans” you say, turning back around to grab ingredients out of the fridge. You allow yourself to calm down, let your tense shoulders relax “Just remember that you can go watch tv if you want.”

There. No obligation, no forcing him to sit where he doesn’t want to, just… A gentle reminder. A reminder that your rules are different than the ones he’s been living under for so many years, that he can go back to being a normal monster whenever he wishes to… but it won’t be on your terms, it will be on _his_.

While you’re not sure if that’s the correct choice, you feel a lot better about yourself, and you smile as you cut the chicken and season it. At least you’re trying to give him some semblance of control and besides, if the soul thing is actually working? Then when he starts getting better he’ll do things on his own without your shoving.

Predictably, Sans completely ignores your suggestion and stays in his little kitchen corner, grinning at you the entire time you’re cooking, but you don’t try to push him to move. Aside from the fact that you’re trying to go slow with him… his company’s kind of nice. It’s been a while since you’ve had someone living with you, and it could get kind of lonely at times. In all honesty, you welcome Sans’ companionship, especially now that he seems a little more relaxed around you. You just… wish it could have been under different circumstances.

That makes you wonder… how different is he from who he used to be? You guess a hell of a lot, but it doesn’t give you much insight on who Sans actually is. The only things you’ve learned so far are that he seems to like space and coffee, and that he might like burgers and eggs. That’s… really not much.

If the real Sans could say something to you right now, what would it be? You take a peek at the skeleton, and he’s taken to clicking his finger bones against the kitchen tiles, seemingly trying to entertain himself with the sounds. You think the real Sans would complain to you about getting him something to do. Which, you do plan on doing. Books are the first thing that comes to mind, but will he even read them? The bastards who hurt him couldn’t have possibly specified that he can’t read books, right? Because that’d really be the cherry on top of the shit sundae.

You shake your head, throwing the cut chicken onto the sizzling pan and throwing some spices on it. Even if they had done such a thing, you’re getting him some damn entertainment. Being bored all day waiting for orders that you won’t give will just drive him insane, he _needs_  something to do. Especially since you’ll have to start working again tomorrow… Fuck, what are you gonna do about that?

Can you really leave him alone here while you work a six hour shift? He really has nothing to do, and you’re not sure how used he is to being on his own for long periods of time… Would it be better to just take him with you? You’ve seen many coworkers with monsters by their side, but the monsters are usually working… Then again, there’s no rule saying your monster can’t just sit there and watch you.

Maybe you can make some sort of excuse? ‘I couldn’t get a babysitter.’ ‘Didn’t you know? Skeletons are also printers.’ ‘He’s decoration. Really spruces up the place.’

“Sir, that’s my emotional support skeleton” you accidentally say aloud like a total nerd and can’t help but laugh at yourself when you realize. It’s even funnier to you when you look over to Sans, and see him perk up and start grinning at you when he sees you looking. You grin back “Speaking of- do you like memes, Sans?”

At first he seems perplexed by the question, which he probably shouldn’t be, because he’s been up here for eight years and _has_  to have encountered memes somehow. But to your surprise, a few seconds later, his eye lights literally _light up_  with excitement. His grin is all of a sudden bright and real like the sun, so much so that it nearly _blinds you_  and he looks _so ready_  to say something mind blowing, probably the funniest meme you’ve ever heard in your life-

But the moment he opens his mouth to speak the grin disappears and his eye lights go out. It’s an incredibly intense whiplash.

You immediately feel your heart in your throat, and just barely remember to turn the fire off so you won’t burn the house down before you’re slowly walking over to him.

“… Sans?” you say gently, putting your hands out as if to calm down a wild animal. Though, you’re in no way expecting him to attack, especially not with the way he’s frozen in place. You also note that he’s shaking and breathing too fast “It’s okay, bud… I’m not gonna hurt you. You’re alright.”

He continues to shake, but thankfully seems to calm down a little at your soft tone. His body also relaxes a little when you gently grab his hands and brush your thumbs over them. His sockets are still empty though, and you’re pretty sure that’s a sign of emotional distress.

Fuck, all this over _jokes_?

“… Someone thought you were too funny, huh. Had to contain your power?” you smile softly, but your heart isn’t in it. Your voice is almost a whisper with how gentle you’re trying to sound “I bet you were about to say something super funny. But it’s okay, you can tell me some other time.”

… They actually made ‘You will not joke’ a command. The **_bastards_**. To think that it’s so strong that just that aborted attempt has him like this… The fear of disobeying must be destroying him inside…

You sit down in front of Sans, one of your hands coming up to brush against his cheek. It had worked last time, so might as well try, right? He flinches at seeing your hand coming close to his face, but once you actually make contact he relaxes under your palm. When you lightly pet there, he leans into it and closes his sockets.

He’s still breathing somewhat heavily, but your caresses and soft coos seem to be helping. Though… the fact that you haven’t hurt him is probably helping a lot more. It takes a while, but after a few minutes the tension in his body softens to the point that he’s leaning against you, and with a few more gentle caresses, he opens his sockets blearily.

“… i’m sorry, master” he says softly, righting himself and separating from you as he rubs at one of his sockets. He seems exhausted “please don’t mind me… i’m sure you’re busy.”

“Never too busy for you,” you say, and startle yourself at how true those words are. Fuck, you really do care a lot, don’t you? It’s actually kind of scary “Are you okay?”

“i’m always okay, master.”

The words make your stomach twist because you can tell they’re preprogrammed, but you know you have to let it go for now. It’s even more sickening when his panic and sadness seem to evaporate at that and suddenly he’s grinning again, as if that whole thing hadn’t even happened. You can tell it’s fake as hell, but it doesn’t hurt any less.

“… Alright” you sigh, feeling your heart aching. To think you’d seen a small sliver of the real Sans only to have it be taken away almost immediately… Shit, it hurt “I have to get back to cooking… You can stay there if you want, but you can go do whatever.”

You make sure to mention that he has freedom in your house again, even though you know it will fall on deaf ears. Just because he can’t take you up on your offer yet doesn’t mean you’re gonna give up. Instead of staying upset and moping on the floor though, you stand up and go back to the stove, turning the heat on again. You hope Monica will be able to brighten up this atmosphere… It’s so unbearably sad.

Sans doesn’t move from his spot as you continue cooking, but he does end up looking more relaxed the more time passes. You try imagining what he’s thinking but all you can come up with is ‘well they haven’t hit me yet, guess i’m off the hook for now’. And all because he wanted to tell a joke! He started having a panic attack over a **_joke_**! You can’t believe this.

Your only guess is that the assholes who’d ‘trained’ Sans had thought his jokes were obnoxious. Or maybe they just didn’t want a slave to joke? You can’t begin to imagine why… Why someone would want a living doll that only serves, one with no personality whatsoever. The fact that such people exist… it’s terrifying.

Thankfully, by the time the food is close to finished you hear the doorbell, and can’t help but let out a sigh of relief.

“Hey, Sans?” he perks up at just the sound of your voice, ready to stand up “I’m almost done, but that must be Monica at the door. Can you do me a favor and let her in? The keys are on the table.”

“of course, master” he says, and walks over to the keys. You’re surprised to see him suddenly so calm and almost eager, but you guess that’s just what he’s supposed to do in response to what you want. It wasn’t an order, but he’s probably interpreted it as one anyway…

You hear the jingle of the keys being picked up and his footsteps going over to the door as you sauté the chicken a little more and then turn the fire off. Just as you hear the key being turned in the lock and the door opening, you turn around with the pan in hand.

A short, slightly chubby girl with golden brown skin stands in your doorway. Her black curls bounce as she startles slightly when she sees the skeleton in front of her, her teal dress billowing slightly with the sudden movement. She does regain her wits relatively quickly though.

“Oh, hello!” Monica sounds extremely surprised, and looks it too. She obviously didn’t expect the brainwashed monster to open the door for her, but she smiles sweetly anyway “You must be Sans. I’m Monica, it’s nice to meet you!”

From your vantage point you can’t really see what expression Sans makes, but you can only assume it’s a slightly confused one. Then all he does is bow a little and move aside, inviting Monica in like some sort of butler. That… makes you a little upset.

Monica also looks disquieted, but upon seeing you and your similarly uneasy expression, she relaxes a little and smiles.

“Hey, Angel. It’s good to see you again.”

“Same to you, Monnie” you smile back despite the circumstances, leaving the pan on the stove and walking over to close the door. Sadly though, Sans is faster and as soon as Monica is inside, he closes and locks the door behind her “Guess you’ve already met Sans.”

“The tiny skeleton who kindly opened the door for me?” she asks with a bit of forced playfulness as she looks at him. Sans doesn’t react aside from looking at her with that same fake grin, and Monica clearly notices because her eye twitches in discomfort “… Yeah, we’ve met.”

“… Sorry about that, he’s not exactly a good conversationalist” you apologize for whatever reason, tapping your index fingers together. Why do you feel so awkward about this? Well, you are technically responsible for him, but still… “We’re working on it.”

Monica waves the words away however, smiling a little more genuinely “Don’t worry about it, I understand. I can survive a bit of awkwardness.”

“… Especially considering the circumstances” she adds as she peeks at Sans with a sadder look in her eyes, but turns back around with a grin a few seconds later, clearly trying to make the gloomy mood disperse “But anyway- What’s that delicious smell? You gotta give me a piece of that, Angel!”

Sans practically takes that as a go-ahead, because he quickly walks over to the kitchen to ‘set the floor’ like you’d suggested. Meanwhile, you make sure to fill Monica in on the fact that you’re trying to merely suggest he can do things, also not stopping him if he wants to help. She nods at you and tells you that she thinks that should be okay, and she pulls out a chair to sit down.

“Ah, Monnie, wait” you say before you notice you’re speaking at all, causing Monica to stop in the middle of sitting down so she’s squatting a little awkwardly. Your cheeks redden a little in embarrassment “Um… remember when I said that Sans won’t eat at the table? I’ve… been eating on the floor with him, and, well, I was hoping…”

“Oh!” she exclaims, a little surprised but in no way upset. In fact, she looks happy that you’re going that far for him, even though it’s not much at all “I don’t mind at all, Angel. Your floor is always so clean it sparkles anyway, I’d be ready to eat _off_  of it!”

You laugh with her at the ridiculousness of the statement, with you hissing out “Monnie, no! That’s unsanitary!” and gently shoving her. Once you put the food and the silverware on the plates Sans takes them over to the floor and sits down, thankfully leaving the glasses and napkins to you. You grab a pitcher of water and, once three glasses are full, sit down with them.

As the three of you eat, Monica makes jokes left and right, and you laugh hysterically. Sans’ grin twitches a lot, like he really wants to laugh but can’t. That makes you a little sad, but you try not to dwell on things you can’t change right now, and besides, at least he thinks Monica’s jokes are funny. Every now and again you gently bump Sans’ arm with your elbow and encourage him to laugh, but all he does is grin a little wider. Despite that, the atmosphere is pleasant, and you’re extremely glad Monica came over.

Too bad you’re dreading the talk that’ll inevitably come after this enjoyable lunch...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> … Not letting Sans joke is a sin against nature. I’m sorry for the crimes I’ve committed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Angel and Monica do a lot of research, there are movies, and... Sans thinks. His thoughts are disturbing, to say the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So people have been wondering about Sans' POV during these last few chapters. Honestly I was kinda planning on only showing it once he was a little more 'awake', but I thought it would be interesting to show more or less how I imagine his thought process going at this point. As you'll be able to see, it's very disjointed, all over the place, and he randomly switches subjects whenever... he thinks something he probably shouldn't think about. 
> 
> I've been updating fairly regularly but that's because I had a few chapters written ahead of time. I'm currently writing chapter 5, and hopefully the wait won't be long butttttt I'm known to be bad about how long I take to write shit. Hopefully I'll see y'all soon! 
> 
> Also! Thank you to my commenter SG for the idea of just throwing a bunch of pillows at Sans' face since he won't stay on the bed. I incorporated it unconsciously and then realized 'oh heck, a commenter talked about that'. Credit!! 
> 
> Warnings in the end notes (Sans's POV near the end has the worst parts but it's all thoughts, nothing new actually happens).

It surprises you a little when Monica asks for coffee after lunch, since she’s never been one for after-meal chatting. She usually prefers to leave the table and do the chatting while playing games or watching some really bad horror movie, so you suspect that the real reason for this is because she’s dreading the talk as much as you are. It makes you feel a little guilty that you’ve put her in this position, but you try to reason with yourself that she’s the one who offered to help you and that she rarely, if ever, helps others out of obligation. It’s clear to you that as uncomfortable as she is, she’s deeply invested.

Just like you.

Still, as Monica and you talk about general life (and Sans watches with his nearly perpetual grin), the coffee quickly runs out and there are no more excuses to delay the inevitable.

“So…” you start, already fidgeting with your empty mug. Sans’ eye lights immediately shift to you at the sound of your voice “Should we talk about why you’re here, Monnie?”

“Probably” she sighs, but gets up and shuffles to her bag that she left on the couch, putting several books and folders on the cushions “Should we take this to the living room? Think we’ll be comfier there.”

“Good idea” you stand up off the kitchen floor and offer a hand to Sans when all he does is look up at you with curiosity “You wanna come with us, bud?”

“i will always follow you, master” he says in that tone that betrays the fact that the phrase was programmed, grabbing your hand and allowing you to help him up. His grin gets a little wider, but also looks a little cautious “unless it’s a private talk?”

Oh. You haven’t actually thought about that… Would Sans even understand what you two are talking about? Will it be beneficial for him to know or… will it hurt him?

Stumped, you look to Monica for help, undoubtedly showing a pathetic expression. Monica smiles awkwardly and shrugs in response.

“… Maybe it’s best if you aren’t around for this” you mumble, gently petting his head in case he’s about to freak out. You don’t think he’s at a stage where you should be taking risks like this, it’s best to just leave him out of it for now “Why don’t you lay around in my room for a while? I have a ton of books there if you wanna read.”

You’re not sure if he’s going to actually lay in your bed and read a book, but he at least got the fact that he should leave and that you’re telling him to go to your room, because he nods obligingly and walks away a few moments later. You hope you won’t find him on the floor… even thought you’re pretty sure that’s exactly where he will be. You make a face as you think that, really wanting him to be at least somewhat comfortable.

“Hey, Monnie?” she turns at your call, halfway through getting everything out of her backpack. Christ, how much stuff has she brought? This will take several hours at least, judging from the three piles that are already out “You finish getting all that out, I’ll be back in a sec, okay?”

She nods and smiles, continuing on her quest “Gonna go make sure bone-boy is okay? Go right ahead, poor dear needs some spoiling.”

You smile and go over to the bedrooms, glad that Monica understands that Sans is your main priority right now. And just as you arrive at your room what do you find but Sans sitting on the carpet next to your bed, looking off into space. It’s actually a little scary; unlike when you’d left him with the television or when you’d been in the room, he doesn’t merely look bored, he almost seems _turned off_. His grin is entirely absent, his jaw slack, and his eye lights are duller than you’ve seen them so far. He’s barely even blinking.

Does he actually just… _stop functioning_  when you’re not there to give him a purpose? Because that’s super fucked up.

“Um… Sans?” you speak quietly, really spooked now.

And just like that he ‘turns on’ again, blinking rapidly as his eye lights brighten up and turning his head to look at you. He grins, but looks somewhat confused, probably at how little time has passed since you’d said you were gonna have a talk with Monica.

Rather than make conversation you decide to do what you came here for, feeling his eye lights on you the entire time. You open your dresser and take out a couple of fluffy blankets and a duvet, as well as some pillows. When you turn around, Sans is looking at you curiously, and barely has time to react when you throw the entire thing at him. All you hear is a small yelp that makes you giggle.

“master??” he sounds incredibly confused as he manages to surface from the sea of fluff, blinking quickly. His cheeks gain a bit of a blue color when he sees you laughing.

“I’m not done, just wanted to stop by and make sure you’re comfortable” you admit, walking forward and kneeling beside him. You smile “Let me help you with that.”

It doesn’t take you much time to arrange the soft items into a small nest that Sans can fit in, and you’re glad it only takes you nodding at him when he glances questioningly at you before he slowly reclines and wiggles into it. Once he settles, he almost immediately gains a sleepy expression. It’s too fucking cute and you just want to hug him like a teddy bear, but you refrain. Instead, you take the time to look through your stacks of books for something that might interest him, and you’re happy to find a copy of ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’ which, you are loath to admit, you’ve never actually sat down and read. Still, you figure that with Sans’ apparent love for space, it’s a story that he might actually enjoy, and thus you bring it back to his small nest beside your bed.

“You don’t have to read it if you don’t want to, but I figured that you might get bored here all on your own, so…” you offer him the book, which he examines curiously but ultimately takes from your hand. His eye lights go from looking at the cover to looking at you “It’s a science fiction story, and since I saw you really liked that one space documentary I thought you might like it. If you don’t wanna read you could always take a nap. I mean, if you want.”

At first you think Sans didn’t get any of that, based on the foggy way he stares at you, but a few seconds later he’s blinking the fog away and smiling. Not emptily grinning, smiling. He even closes his eyes… Is this the happiest you’ve seen him so far? You think it might be. Your heart swells in your chest.

“… thank you, master” he says quietly, almost reverently, hugging the book to his chest. God, you really hope this means he’ll read it. That he’s happy that you gave it to him “i hope you enjoy your talk.”

You sincerely doubt you will, but you smile anyway, making sure to grab the folder with Sans’ ownership papers before you leave “Thank you Sans. Hope you like the book.”

He smiles at you again as you leave the door partly open, just in case he needs anything. You know it’s very unlikely that he’ll call for you if he does need something, but you can hope.

Walking back to the living room, you almost hear the funeral march playing in your head. As much as you’re really, _really_  grateful that Monica took the time to investigate and that she’s willing to sit down and comb through all of it with you, to help you with all of this… you know the contents will be mildly disturbing at best, and horrific at worst. Even something as innocent as a book about how monster souls work can become horrific when taken in the context that you’re looking at this information because of what was done to Sans. No matter what, this will be very upsetting, and both you and Monica know it.  
  
The first thing you see upon entering is the ridiculous amount of paper Monica brought over, the woman herself sitting on the carpet around the piles. You find her sitting there a little weird considering the couch is right behind her and Sans is no longer in the room.

“So, how’s bone boy?” she asks when she sees you, smiling wearily. She already looks tired and not quite upset, but getting there “He was kinda quiet during lunch.”

“Yeah, he’s usually like that. I left him in a pillow fort with a science fiction book. Don’t know if he’ll read it, but he looked happy.”

“Nice.”

“By the way, why’re you sitting on the carpet?” you finally decide to ask, but sit beside her anyway. You open the folder in your hand “The couch is right there.”

“I know he’s not here right now, but I want to show my support anyway” she shrugs “Dude never even said a word to me, but his little face is too cute to resist.”

“I know right?” you laugh a little. Glad to know you’re not the only one to break so quickly by those star eyes “Judging by how deep his voice is I assume he’s gotta be pretty old, but he’s so short and cute, I just wanna spoil him rotten.”

“You don’t know how old he is?” Monica rises a brow, and at your shrug, motions to the folder in your hands “Well the ownership papers should have most of his info. Might wanna give that a read before anything else.”

Silently agreeing with her, you start skimming through the pages.

 _ **'Sans. Monster type: skeleton. Age: 28’-** _You’re fairly surprised to learn that Sans isn’t just older than you, but that he’s older than you by _three years_. Huh _**\- 'Trained?: yes. For how long?: two years.'**_

You pause, having to put a hand over your mouth as your eyebrows furrow in horror.

Two years? For what’s been done to him to have lasted _two whole years_ … God, you can’t imagine.

“I’m guessing you didn’t learn something pretty” Monica says with a sad tone. When you tell her what you’ve just read, she makes a face “Fuck, that poor guy… No wonder he’s the way he is right now…”

You force yourself to keep reading.

 _ **'Collar?: no. If no, why not?: buyers want his magic as a protection and the training renders the collar unnecessary.’**_  - Ah, well that explains why you’d found Sans with a dog collar rather than a monster one. The government has to be really confident about this training method to let a monster run around without one…

You know a fair amount about monster collars. From what you’ve gathered over the years, they use the same technology as mage collars but are designed to withstand more magic, and the shocks administered if a monster disobeys are far less damaging, considering how fragile monsters actually are compared to humans. When an order is given, the slave has a certain window of time to comply before the collar administers a shock that gets more intense the longer the slave refuses to obey- unless that order has the potential to cause the monster’s death, in which case the collar remains still. Aside from that, they have microchips to locate slaves wherever they may be, and limit the use of a slave’s magical abilities. It makes sense then that buyers would keep Sans without a collar so he could reach his full magical potential.  
  
Speaking of mages, yes, you’ve known about them being slaves since you were like, six, and grew up to be enraged by their enslavement, but it’s been going on for… hundreds of years now. Way longer than you’ve been alive.

You’ve gone to rallies, signed petitions, and overall been a fierce activist, even going so far as to join rebellious groups that would attempt to free slaves and sabotage the government. You still help from time to time, but since monsters surfaced your job has been crushing you and you don’t have nearly as much time on your hands as you once used to. And now that you have Sans… You can’t get entangled in anything too bad. You can’t put him in danger, so your days of being a vigilante are officially over.

Besides, as much as you don’t want to think it… it’s a lost cause. People are content with slavery and unless someone with huge power comes up and decides it just can’t be a thing anymore, it will continue happening. You really hope it will happen before you die, but you don’t have much hope anymore.

“I noticed this a while ago, but he doesn’t have a monster collar” you tell Monica once you’re done moping, who has been skimming some info of her own while you’ve been busy with the papers. She looks up at you “I found him with a dog collar, got it off him as soon as I could. Says here that the reason he doesn’t have a monster collar is because buyers wanted his full magical potential… whatever that means.”

“I saw the necklace he has on. It’s cute” she smiles as she latches onto the least important part of your statement, but despite the fact that you can tell it’s meant to be teasing, she looks deeply disturbed. You can tell she’s faking some form of cheer for the sake of not losing her mind “I remember you wearing it to prom and David complimenting you on it. Said it went well with your eyes.”

“C’mon Mon, we haven’t seen Dave in years. Turned out to be an asshole anyway” you grimace, lightly shoving at her shoulders and only getting an empty chuckle in response. You kind of want to tell her to cut it out, but she’s just trying to cope with all these horrible findings “Anyway… I feel like you found something. I can see it on your face.”

Her smile vanishes.

“I’m an open book to you, aren’t I?”

“Always, Monnie.”

“… You’re not gonna like it” her voice is hesitant, but she passes some pages over to you anyway. Just as hesitantly, you start skimming the first one “I tried to find people who tried to decondition their monsters, but there aren’t many, and the ones I found… Let’s just say they’re kind of private.”

“The bad news is that there really doesn’t seem to be any way to reverse the process without access to the soul” she explains, getting close enough to you to point at parts of the paper in your hands. You see a livejournal entry of a human girl who’d gotten attached to her monster and had tried to reverse the process with no success until she started messing with their soul “The worse news is that every story I found is exactly the same as yours. Soul healing goes wrong, ends up sexual, and humans freak out about it.”

She looks up at you with a grave expression on her face. You’ve never seen her this tired “And the worst news is… The ones who established boundaries and didn’t let their monster touch them? … They ended up with a dead monster.”

You can’t help yourself; you gasp and flinch, your hands coming up to cover your mouth. Monica looks sadly at you.

“… Seems like their mental state is… desperately fragile” you can barely hear Monica’s voice as she continues solemnly, having started staring at nothing, trying to comprehend what she’s saying. Your eyes water “They can’t handle rejection, let alone the thought that they will be punished for something that was more than encouraged before. They can’t compute it. Shifting their worldview that suddenly, plus giving them the idea that they’ll be in terrible pain all at once… It breaks them, Angel.”

So you really did make the right choice.

You punch the carpet at that thought, your mouth suddenly a snarl.

How _dare_  the universe tell you that you made the right choice?! You took advantage of Sans! You hurt him! You _molested_  him! You refuse to believe that the only options you had were that or his death!

“That can’t be right!” you shout, getting up with your hands balled up into fists “ _I_  can’t be right! I did something horrible! Terrible! Deplorable!”  
  
“Something horrible that ended up saving his life, Angel” Monica gets up and puts her hands on your shoulders, which is a little difficult because you’re at least a head taller than her. Her lips are in a tight line, her expression serious “From what I’ve gathered, trained monsters are so traumatized and mangled that any misstep can result in their death, at least at this stage. Their emotions are tied to their soul, Angel- Agitate them enough, scare them enough, and they’re dust.”

More tears run down your face as you look at Monica. Her expression turns into a teary, compassionate one.

“I know how much this is tearing you up inside, Angel. I _hate_  seeing you like this…” she has to pause to dry some of her tears, sniffling “But I know you well enough to know that you’d rather die than abandon Sans right now.” 

You grimace “You’re damn right I would.”

“So the least I can do is help you through this” she hugs you softly, and after a moment of hesitation, you hug her back “There is definitely a way to bring him back. Even thought the road to it is rocky and… morally ambiguous at best, it does work. The ones who kept going with it managed it eventually…”

Slowly, she lets go of the hug and takes a moment to dry her tears, but when she’s done, the fire of Justice in her soul shines through her eyes “And anyway, there’s still a lot of papers. Let’s not lose hope just yet, we might still find something else. C’mon, let’s keep going.”

You have a feeling that the world is cruel enough to make this the only way, but you nod anyway and sit back down to look through more papers. The least you can do for Sans is to try to find an alternative.

You both end up looking through piles and piles of folders and lose papers for at least three hours. In that time, neither of you manage to find an alternative way to bring Sans back, but Monica does find an educational book about monsters that explains that, actually, soul touching can be entirely platonic and innocent when it’s with the intention to heal. Hell, extremely trusted friends do it to heal each other in times of crisis. That knowledge only serves to make you even more miserable however, because you _know_  your intent was to heal and protect. It means that Sans only interpreted it as sexual because he’s been starved of positive touch and was mostly kept as a sex slave for so long. He _can’t_  see it as innocent.

You only pause for a pee break and to get Monica and yourself some water, but another two hours of work later and neither of you are any closer to finding an alternative than before. And you’re running out of research material.

“There _has_  to be something here- Augh!” Monica finally breaks and shouts to the heavens in frustration, throwing the last of her pages to the air. She then puts her face in her knees and hugs her legs, looking and sounding completely defeated “I can’t believe this is a thing. I can’t believe you have to do bad in order to do good…”

“… If there is some other way nobody has found it yet” you sigh out, the last of your pages slipping from your slack fingers before you put your hands to your face. Your face is angled to the ceiling “I kind of want to stab something right now.”

“Agreed” Monica mumbles from between her knees “Don’t think ripping all this paper will be enough.”

“You wanna watch a movie?” you say with little to no enthusiasm, getting up as if all the energy in your body has been stripped from you. Man, this is so depressing “I’m sure I can find some really gorey scary movie. Maybe we can watch all the Saw ones. Get some frustration out.”

“I’d love to” she sighs, and gets up as well “But before that… there are a few things I thought up while we were researching.”

Your head spins around to look at her so fast that you’re worried you might have injured your neck. Your expression becomes hopeful, but Monica puts her hands up as if to say ‘wait’.  
  
“There’s not much to it, don’t start celebrating” reluctantly, the hope drains from your eyes “My idea is that you put the situation in the freezer for a while.”

“Put it in the freezer?” the hell is she talking about.

“Yeah, leave it alone for a bit. Don’t touch it, don’t look at it, don’t think about it. Just let it cool” she explains her strange analogy, shrugging “What I’m trying to say is that you haven’t known Sans or his situation for long. We don’t fully know how he works- so I think the best course of action here is to not mess with his soul for a bit and just spend time studying him.”

You make a face “You make it sound like he’s a science experiment.”

Monica rolls her eyes and pointedly ignores your defensive comment “I think you should do normal shit with him; maybe take him shopping, get him things he likes, something to entertain him. Decorate his room? Just keep him busy, and try treating him like a regular dude. Like, try not to coddle him unless necessary.”

You open your mouth to object, but she puts a finger up and continues “‘Necessary’ here means ‘if he freaks out and is therefore in mortal danger’. We’re trying to get him used to being normal again, Angel- treating him like glass could actually be detrimental. So, like I said, unless necessary, don’t coddle him.”

You pout at that, crossing your arms “So you mean to tell me that I should’ve left him sitting on my carpet staring into space instead of making him a pillow fort and giving him a book to read?”

“What? No,” Monica smiles, and luckily is starting to look a little less upset. Now that you two have, at the very least, a plan, most of the hopelessness has left her eyes “I mean that if he wants to wash the dishes or do chores you should let him. I know you well enough to be sure you were so worried about him you barely let him lift a finger.”

You immediately get defensive “Look, just because I got really worried that one time when you were sick-”

“It was a cold! And you didn’t even let me walk to the bathroom by myself!”  
The two of you glare at each other for a while, trying to make the other give up their point, but eventually you have to concede, looking away with a huff. Monica smiles triumphantly.

“Fine. I’ll try not to coddle him” you mumble, still feeling a little annoyed and majorly stressed out. You… kinda like spoiling him “How long do you want me to ‘put the situation in the freezer’ for?”

“Hm. I dunno, a week maybe?” she shrugs again “He’s unpredictable, so we should probably make it a short window of time for now. I want you to call me in a week and tell me how things are. Oh, and also-”

She walks back to the couch and grabs her nearly empty backpack, pulling a small notebook from it. She offers it to you with a smile “I thought of this back when I was searching for info, but I think it would be best if you monitor Sans’ condition. Like, every once in while write down a general explanation on how he’s acting and anything strange that comes up, so with time we can look back and see if anything has changed. And since the soul is important, even if you don’t mess around with it, I think you still should monitor it. Maybe take pictures and see if it changes from picture to picture?”

“Um” you blush a little, grabbing the notebook and clutching it to your chest “The soul is really private, so I dunno…”

“Draw it then. Just as long as it’s as accurate as you can possibly make it. If it goes slowly, how can we be sure that anything’s changed at all if we don’t have records of how it used to be?”

Monica does have a point. The conditioning was so thorough and reversing it is such a delicate process, it’s bound to take a while, and once you see it a million times you probably won’t be able to remember how his soul looked that first day. Should you take pictures then? … It feels wrong, like you’re taking nude pictures, but it is important, and you’re a terrible artist. You can’t risk making inaccurate drawings.

“… Every week” you concede, sighing “I’ll take a picture of it every week to see if it improves.”

Monica sends you a worried look when you frown down at the floor, teeth clenched. You’re sure she can tell this is seriously stressing you out, not to mention you still kind of hate yourself for what you did even if, in hindsight, it probably saved Sans’ life. You still don’t know if you’re gonna be able to bring Sans back, have no clue what you’re going to do with him when you go to work tomorrow, and in general have no idea _what the fuck you’re doing_ -

“Angel, breathe” you hear her say distantly, and you force yourself to slow down your breathing which has sped up dangerously without your notice. You’re shaking, and Monica gets closer to wrap her arms around you gently “It’s alright hun, we’ll get through this. You’re not alone, I’ll help you. Okay? Just breathe.”

“Why… Why are you so invested a-anyway?” you ask a little tearfully, entirely because your world is upside down and you’re fighting down a mighty big panic attack. Ordinarily, you would try to dry the tears that are gathering in your eyes, but all you can do is huff and puff, trying to get your breathing back to normal “I can tell this whole thing is- r-really bad for you. You look like- like you d-didn’t get any sleep last night.”

“… I didn’t. Was too upset” she sighs, pets your hair. It’s soothing, and you find yourself clutching at her a little harder “But that doesn’t matter, Angel. You know me, I can’t just _not help_ , especially when Sans’ situation is so bad. My stupid Justice soul won’t let me. And…”

She then makes a little bit of space between the two of you, enough so that she can look up at you and smile.

“I know this is really important to you. I want to make you happy. Besides, I know that you’ll go crazy trying to solve this by yourself. Your text at three in the morning was enough to tell me that” you hide your face in her hair, and she huffs with a bit of amusement “ _So_ , I’m gonna work hard to get at least some of this pressure off your shoulders.”

“… You’re the best, Monnie” you mumble into her hair. You feel a lot calmer now.

“I know” her grin as she lets you go from the hug is a little forced, but you don’t call her out on it “Now let’s go watch Saw, we need to get our minds off of this shit.”

Putting on the gory movie is the best decision you’ve made in a while, you think. It truly does take your mind off of the situation with Sans, and imagining some of the victims as the mobster, the lord, and faceless bastards who’d hurt Sans is cathartic as fuck. Also, you made popcorn, which is fucking delicious and you munch at as if you were breaking the skulls of slave owners with your teeth. Halfway through the movie though, you notice Sans standing in the corner with the book you’d given him and eyeing both you and Monica with wide sockets, looking a little nervous. You guess he doesn’t want to interrupt, but has something he wants to say. You pause the movie and turn to him with a soft smile.

“Hey Sans,” you motion him over with a wave of your hand, and he blinks twice before padding over to you “What’s up? Did you finish your book?”

“i did” he says to your immense surprise. Not only are you shocked that he read it at all, but also so fast! Granted he’s been at it for around six hours, but you thought it would take him a little longer than that “i was wondering… if i could maybe have another, master?”

He looks even more nervous now, looking at the ground and shuffling his small feet. You wonder why exactly he would be this nervous about asking for a new one… Is it because he’s supposed to be grateful you gave him anything at all? Does he think he’s being selfish by asking another? Neither of those thoughts sit well with you.

“Of course, bud” your smile widens as you stand up off the couch. He actually read it! God, you’re so glad. You make a mental note to shop for books he likes as you give Monica a nod and walk with Sans back to your bedroom. You know Monica understood you when you hear the movie unpause “So did you like it? Do you want me to get you another science fiction one, or do you want something else?”

“anything you give me is more than enough, master” he says, and you almost flinch because fuck, he’d been doing so well. You take is as a ‘yes’ though and start rummaging through your books, trying to find another science fiction one.

After a bit, you find a book that has a lot of recommendations, but have again never read yourself. It’s called ‘Dune’. You shrug and give it to Sans, but also give him ‘The book of the new sun’, ‘The moon is a harsh mistress’, and ‘The dispossessed’. You haven’t read any of them… How many books have you been gifted over the years but never bothered to read? You’ve become uncultured in your obsession with the internet.

“There,” you say once Sans has a pile of books in his arms, feeling accomplished “Like before, if you need anything don’t hesitate to come find me in the living room. We’ll probably be watching movies ‘till dinner.”

You turn around to leave, already putting a foot in front of yourself to take a step “Hope you enj-”

“w-wait!”

You pause at the door and turn around sharply, eyes wide, thinking that something is wrong. Why would Sans shout like-

Then you notice. He looks… kind of frightened. He’s shaking, holding the books in his arms and refusing to look up at you. He’s staring at the floor.

… You have no idea why he’s acting this way.

“… Yes, Sans?” you speak softly, trying to encourage him to talk to you. To speak his mind. He’s already surprised you today by asking for more books, if he keeps going you’ll be elated “What is it? Is there something you need?”

He shakes for a little longer before he seems to steel himself- closing his sockets tightly and shaking harder.

“c-can…” his voice is barely a whisper “can i… s-stay with you? … please…?”

Your eyes widen. Why…? You’re not bothered, in fact you’d be happy to spend more time with him but… You don’t really understand his reasoning. If he does see you as a master, then he sees you as someone volatile that wants his servitude and will lash out at him for just about anything, won’t allow him on the furniture, will abuse him… You’d thought that was how he saw you thus far. He’s supposed to want to _avoid you_  if possible.

Maybe he’s testing you. Checking to see if he should believe your kindness, see how far you will let him push. Is he even conscious enough to think about that? Maybe it’s all instinctual. And anyway, why so suddenly? Had… Had last night changed something for him? But if so, what? Was it the fact that you’d been gentle with his soul? He had been… really scared that you would hurt him through it… Maybe he’s just shocked that you didn’t… _force yourself_  on him…

It leaves a bad taste in your mouth, and the reminder of the event makes your hair stand on end… but you’re not going to question it. If he wants to be with you, you will let him. Hell, it’s the first _want_  he’s expressed since you took him in, aside from asking for more books. You want to encourage him to tell you what he wants, not deny him. Besides… this request is easy.

“Of course,” you tell him with a sad smile, and he suddenly looks up at you with wide sockets and trembling eye lights. He looks incredulous “Monnie and I are watching a horror movie though… Will you be able to read your books?” you would suggest he watch with you, but… Well, you’re not sure how well he’ll react to horror movies right now, especially gory ones.

“i…” he still looks dumbfounded, but slowly pads over to you and raises a shaky hand, his other one holding the books to his chest “of… of course…”

You stare at his hand. Does he… want you to take it? You move your own slowly to it, not wanting to startle him, but he shakes harder the closer you get to his hand. Then, when you’re close enough… you gently take his trembling hand in your own and squeeze it lightly. His shivering slowly stops.

“… Let’s go then” you say gently, guiding him out of your room. He still looks like he doesn’t quite believe what is happening, eye lights barely more than pinpricks “I’ll sit on the floor with you.”

He doesn’t say anything else as you both get back to the living room. Monica is surprised when she sees him, and looks at you questioningly first, then glances at the movie, as if asking ‘should i turn it off?’. You shake your head no, but you will be making sure Sans isn’t watching and that he’s fine with the noises. If he isn’t you’re going to turn that shit off and find something else.

When you sit on the floor in front of the couch, Sans sits immediately next to you, and so does Monica. Before he opens his book, you grab the bowl of popcorn and offer it to him with a small smile. Sans first looks at the bowl, then at you, and slowly puts a hand in it. When you don’t react, he grabs a handful and slowly takes his hand back out. You give Monica the bowl back and delight in the way Sans starts munching at the snack, sockets slightly narrowed in an expression that you’ve come to think of as happiness.

Monica unpauses the movie, and you go back to watching. Occasionally, you glance at Sans, particularly during the parts where people are screaming and bleeding everywhere, but he’s being good and reading his books, looking very intrigued. He doesn’t even flinch at the screaming, and you wonder if he’s just zoned out or if it doesn’t bother him because he knows it’s coming from a movie. You’re not sure.

Regardless though… You find yourself relaxing and continuing to watch. After that movie though, you make sure to get the three of you some dinner before anything else. You buy delivery. Not the most healthy, but the pizza is heavenly and you all eat it happily before going back to the living room. By this point you’re kind of in the mood for Disney, and Monica is delighted to change the theme to animated musicals.

Halfway through Aladdin you peek at Sans and find him with his eye lights glued to the screen, looking… serene for once. He notices you watching and shrinks a little in place, but when all you do is smile at him he slowly unfurls and turns his head back to the television, only looking back at you once or twice before relaxing and continuing to watch.

You feel… somewhat content.

* * *

… Master is weird.

That’s pretty much the only way Sans can think to describe them- Weird. Well, there is ‘kind’ and ‘gentle’, but he can’t be sure of those. He never can be sure of those. Owners would pretend to be nice and innocent and then just-

…

Wait, what had he been thinking about? Oh yeah, Master.

He’s currently sat watching Disney movies in the living room with Master and their Friend. The movies are fun and the songs are catchy. He doesn’t know why Master is allowing him to watch them though, rather than sending him away to wash the very few dishes that are in the sink, or clean the floors. At the very least they should want him to be a popcorn-holder, since he’s noticed how often they and their Friend end up passing the bowl between them. That’s gotta be uncomfortable, if Master asks, he’ll happily sit in between them and occasionally move the bowl from one person to the other, so it’s easier on them.

… Anything to be useful, really.

But Master seems more than content to coddle him, which he doesn’t think is very fair. Why are they doing everything by themselves? That’s what Sans is here for! Between that and their odd fixation of trying to get him on the furniture, he’s starting to wonder if they don’t know what a monster is or how it’s supposed to behave. Hell, they’re practically treating him like a…

Like a human. Like an equal. Like someone who has value outside of serving and shouldn’t have to be waiting on someone on hand and foot to deserve-

……..

Oh, there’s also the various presents they’ve given him. The necklace is beautiful, but it’s definitely not a collar, and the clothes they gave him… They make him look like a sack of potatoes. They’re baggy and hide his entire frame from view… They’re… comfy… and warm… and kinda smell like them…

He kind of… really likes them? Compared to that costume he’d been given when he was being introduced to his then new Master, they’re very soft. Speaking of, he knows he shouldn’t be, he’s not supposed to have opinions, but he’s kind of… glad? That Master stole him? The man that was going to be his master didn’t do anything particularly _bad_  per say, he was just using Sans as he was meant to be used, but…

But Master… The one time Sans thought they were going to use him the way they’re supposed to want to, what he got instead was… Love? And care? It was confusing for his soul, having had nothing to compare those feeling being sent into his being to aside from being trained, and that’d been… Well. Let’s just say that there’s a reason he tries so hard to be good.

He knew it wasn’t what they were supposed to be doing though. They were being way too considerate of Sans! _Surely_  that had to be the only reason why they hadn’t just thrown him on the mattress and fucked him. So, being the good boy he is, he tried to steer them in the right direction, show them that they really shouldn’t be worried about a slave, but they’d looked so… upset. He’d panicked. He’d practically felt his soul wanting to rip itself apart, knowing he’d made such a tremendous mistake that Master didn’t even _want_  to do that with him, and how could they _not_ , how badly had he fucked up for them to _not want him_? **_That’s all he’s good for!_** He’d be punished so severely for this, there’d been no way they were just going to let it go with merely a scolding and a slap-

… But then they kissed him, and everything was okay again. Sans could still tell he’d done something wrong, because Master had kept tensing and looking kind of queasy at times… but in the end, he was allowed to do his job, and they’d still come, although… he’d never seen one of his masters so upset after the fact. It was weird. It’s even weirder because even now, he can still see they’re upset, and he doesn’t know why.

If they’re worried about having been too rough with Sans because they’re too kind, then they shouldn’t be… For once, sex wasn’t that bad. In fact, he’d… kinda liked it. Which was a first! Usually he’d just have to hide his sobbing at how much it hurt until he could hide in a corner where nobody would see him, but- It hadn’t hurt at all, it’d felt _good_. And they’d had his soul in their hand, sending him waves of care and confusing feelings and thoughts about freedom and love, again treating him like some sort of equal and…

He’d enjoyed himself. Well, physically at least. He’s worried about the pangs of Master’s worry and disgust that he’d felt that night, unwittingly transferring themselves to him through his soul… He hopes he hadn’t been the one to cause them. At least if he had been, they haven’t punished him for it yet…

Master is… probably too kind… He’s somewhat afraid of getting used to it, in case they ever sell him or if… he’s stolen again. Because if he does, he’s not sure how long he’ll be able to survive. He’s already been broken so badly, his soul full of blotches and cracks, and as much as they’re trying to heal him his being is so mangled that he can’t keep a coherent, real thought going to save his-

…………..

… He’s been thinking too much lately. He’s not supposed to think, there’s no need for his thoughts. All he has to do is obey and follow, should be easy… But Master’s been asking him to think by putting _choices_  of all things in front of him, and it’s starting to infect him, he thinks. Ah, there it is again. He thinks. It’s been a while since he’s thought.

Well… At least he knows Master won’t be mad when he asks for more books or… when he wants to be around them. Because he’d had this soft feeling in his chest and an image of relaxing on the couch next to Master, just reading books, not a care in the world. They’d been ready to leave him in their bedroom, in that little nest they needn’t have bothered to prepare for him and- and the image, as hopelessly impossible as it’d been, had started fading and _stars he wants that, i want to stay with you, please don’t leave me alone, **i can’t stand being alone**_ -

…………………………

They’d looked happy when he asked for things, he thinks. He should do that more often. He likes their smile.

He takes a peek at Master and sees them singing along with their Friend to one of the songs in the movie that’s on now. He thinks it’s something about a mermaid, but he hasn’t been paying attention. They look like they’re having fun… He kind of wishes that he could sing with them. Stars, it’s been so long since he’s sung anything- But no, he can’t sing with them right now, it’s not his place and it wouldn’t benefit Master in any way.

… Maybe he can sing Master lullabies to help them sleep! That’d be a good use of his kinda-talent.

He shuffles a little in place to get more comfortable on the living room carpet, his nearly permanent grin that he forces on his face dulling to a soft, somewhat genuine smile. He has the sudden want to lay his head on Master’s shoulder and drift off, but he’s not meant to have wants and that’d be too personal, he’s probably not allowed to do it, no matter how nice Master is compared to his other masters. So instead, he leans against the foot of the couch and blinks slowly until he falls into a nice sleep.

Hopefully… tomorrow will be as good as today was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Talk of sad and disturbing slavery shit we've covered before, not just monsters but also some humans being slaves, talk about monsters dying, talks of mind control, talks of abuse, talk of extremely morally dubious actions saving someone, Angel/Reader almost having a panic attack and thinking of themselves as a bad person. Sans thinking of himself as nothing more than a tool to be used, Sans not thinking of people abusing him as anything bad or out of the norm, Sans thinking that being a sex toy is all he's good for, Sans somewhat liking a nonconsensual encounter merely because he wasn't hurt during it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You take Sans to work and later shopping. Finally, the poor skeleton has some clothes that fit him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait guys; I've mentioned that I don't update frequently before, but this is long even for me, especially without saying anything. Let's just say life has been uh... complicated. In both good and bad ways. Adapting to work is hard, a huge part of my house is under construction and thus I'm basically sleeping amongst dust and random furniture, I had some pretty shitty 'friendships' that I thankfully managed to cut off just a few months ago but am still feeling the effects of, and... ;w; I've been rping a lot. With my wife. I mean, we're not married, but we call each other that lmao. Also ;O; she made me artttttt. It's down there in the chapter, LOOK AT ITTTTTTT TwT <333333 Everyone go give love to https://twitter.com/beangreenn, she's the hecking sweetest.
> 
> TLDR; life has been a rollercoaster and writing has been hard as fuck, but I do want to continue both of my stories. From now on I'm going to be updating about the state of stories around once a month on my art twitter https://twitter.com/MYaksup, so I don't have to be putting annoying Author's notes and making yall think there's a chapter when there isnt. Hopefully I'll be able to write more often ^w^
> 
> Warnings are the same as the ones for the entire story, nothing particularly bad this chapter.

 

You wake up to the obnoxious blaring of your alarm, and after turning it off with the slam of a hand you immediately jump out of bed like the house is on fire. You run to your bathroom with only one word on your mind: _**work**_.

As you go about your usual rushed routine of eating breakfast (there is grilled cheese in the fridge _fuck yeah_ ), brushing your teeth, showering quickly and finding an outfit, your mind drifts to yesterday night. Monica had alerted you of the fact that Sans had fallen asleep during Hercules, and you had paused the movie to pull him into your arms and take him to your bed, where you laid him down and tucked him in, luckily without much fuss. Monica had only stayed for a little bit longer before she’d hugged you and gone back home, leaving you to clean up a little and cuddle into bed.

All in all, you think with a smile as you dress in the bathroom, yesterday went really well. You and Monica had gotten a plan going, despite the fact that it wasn’t the most morally correct or comfortable, and Sans had even made progress-

You pause. _Sans_.

Shit, you have to take him to work.

Ready except for the lack of a skeleton by your side, you power walk into your room and pull the cursed box from under your bed, taking out the collar and leash. Honestly fuck these things, but you need them if you don’t want to be arrested. You leave them on the bed and go to the wardrobe to grab another pair of clothes that’s slightly tight on you plus socks and a pair of shoes that are too small on you. You go to Sans’ side of the bed and put the shoes down on the floor. Poor boy is sleeping peacefully, you hate disturbing him but…

"Sans" you shake him softly, fully ready for him to be impossible to wake. Dude looks so tired all the time, it would just be logical "Sansy, please wake up. I need you to go to work with me."

To your surprise, Sans opens his sockets and blinks blearily, obviously still very sleepy. However, rather than turn around and go back to sleep, he sits up and rubs at one of his sockets, letting out a yawn before he looks at you with a tired smile.

"good morning, master" he looks at the clothes in your hands and takes them gently, inspecting them. He quickly notices the collar and leash on the bed and his eyebrows lift slightly "oh, are we going out?"

"I have to go to work," you explain, turning around sharply when Sans just- starts taking his clothes off right then and there. Does he not know privacy either?! Your cheeks are flaming, and you clear your throat "Uh, since I don't wanna leave you here alone, I figured I would take you with me. Y’know, get you out of the house.”

"that's alright master," you hear the click of the leash being locked onto the collar's D ring and cautiously turn around, letting out a soft sigh of relief when you see Sans fully clothed, collar on and putting on the shoes "i'm used to that. i would be happy to help you with your work.”

You don't bother telling him you're not intending for him to help you, just take a glance at the watch on your wrist before you feel yourself paling slightly.

“There’s no time!” you grab at his hand and pull him quickly with you through the house, only for you to pause and curse before running back to your room and grabbing the books you’d given to Sans, also passing by the kitchen to grab the other grilled cheese. You don’t want him to be bored or hungry at work after all “To the car!”

While running to said car, Sans jogging behind you, you stuff the books and food into your work messenger bag. You then curse again and make sure the door to the house is locked, then finally open the car and get in. You see Sans about to get into the back and want to stop him but… what if someone sees? A monster in a passenger seat could get you in trouble. Monster lovers aren’t well seen, and you’ve already accepted the fact that you have to be careful in this world so as to not bring Sans any stress or put him in danger, to keep your indignation over how monsters and mages are treated hidden from everybody… So reluctantly, you let him sit in the back with only a sad look, and once you make sure both of your seat belts are on, start the car.

The drive to work, as usual, is boring. Normally you would’ve thought that having another person in the vehicle would mean at least some conversation, but you’re already getting used to Sans not speaking much. Although he doesn’t perfectly adhere to the rule (and thank God for that), he’s generally in the ‘don’t speak until spoken to’ category, so you just put on some music from your phone and drive. It’s a chill trip, and Sans even bobs his head to some tunes, so you think he’s having a good time at least.

You arrive at the building around fifteen minutes later, and you park in your designated spot before hurriedly taking your seatbelt off and opening the door, grabbing your bag. Luckily, Sans seems to be on your wavelength and gets off as well, following you dutifully inside.

The moment you enter the building you're already assaulted by the sheer amount of people in the lobby, walking this way and that, many with paper in their hands or briefcases, talking heatedly on the phone about something. A lot of them have monsters walking behind them and being pulled by their leash, often holding coffee or their masters' luggage. You make sure to grab Sans' leash but keep your bag on you, leading him through the throng of people to the elevator. The few times you manage to get a glimpse of him, you notice he's looking around with curiosity, but his eye lights mostly pose themselves on each and every monster that passes his vision, almost as if looking for something. Is he searching for someone?

You don't have time to ponder on this, but luckily the two of you get to the elevator without much issue and you press the number 9 for your floor. The elevator stops on the second, fifth, and seventh floor as well, and when people get on along with their monsters, Sans takes a few steps closer to you. You're not sure whether he's seeking comfort or keeping you safe... that tidbit about Sans having been left without a collar because masters wanted his magic potential has been making you think. Is he some sort of bodyguard as well? But he's so small and brittle... You want to ask him how he's doing, but in an elevator filled with slave owners that would be potentially dangerous, so instead you put a gentle hand on his skull and pet him a little. He closes his eyes, his grin widening, and luckily nobody says anything. It's enough to reassure you that he's not freaking out, and thankfully, you get to your floor before too long.

Exiting the elevator, your floor is thankfully not as much of a mess as the lobby. There are still people waiting to be attended however, so you quickly use your key to get into a door on the side and usher Sans in, locking it behind you two. You walk hurriedly past a few hallways, saying hello as you pass and getting mildly surprised looks when they see the skeleton following behind you. Luckily, none of them stop you for a chat just yet.

When you get to the reception table by turning to the left and opening a door, you immediately unclip the leash from Sans’ collar and put it in your bag, leaving the heavy thing on one of the coat hangers.

“Okay bud, I gotta start working stat, so I need you to just sit down and relax for a bit okay?” you realize your mistake the moment you turn your head and see Sans nodding and readying himself to sit down right there in the corner. You instantly make a couple of choked off noises while waving your hands desperately, until he stops in midair. He blinks a couple of times at you, uncomprehending “Right, you won’t sit on chairs, um- Just give me a sec!”

You rush to grab a cushion off one of the couches out by the hallway and put it down where Sans had been about to sit down, feeling a lot less bad about him sitting there now that it’s not as uncomfortable. After looking up at you as if asking for permission and getting a nod from you, Sans sits down on the cushion with a little sigh of contentment. He smiles up at you as you hurriedly grab his books and food from your bag and bring it all over to him. While you set the books on the floor next to him, you hand him the grilled cheese in its napkin.

“thank you, master” he says, and then moves a little so he’s comfier on the cushion. He almost immediately starts nibbling on the sandwich and looks even happier “please do not hesitate to call for me if you need me.”

You won’t do that, but you still smile and nod at him before giving his skull a little pet and speed-walking to the front desk only a few feet away. He can see you while you work, so you’re hoping that if there’s anything he needs, he’ll call for you.

Your work is, in a word, chaos. You're something of a receptionist at a tribunal; your job is basically to put case files in the correct locker according to the alphabet, search for a case file when a lawyer comes searching for it, and add whatever new slip of paper comes from the mail in the corresponding case file. It doesn't sound like much, but it's actually very tiring. You run around for six hours every day putting the weight of thousands of case files on your arms, only ever sitting when there's nothing to do and... there's always something to do. It's always been like this, honestly, but five years ago there was a distinct change in thinking about monsters and how to best make use of them.

Before, monsters were seen as pets. At best, creatures that could help around the house. However, as more and more about monsters became known, it was decided that they were sapient and knowledgeable enough to help in different areas of work. As such… five years ago, workplaces began to _demand_  that people bring their monsters to work with them, as if saying “we’re not giving you work laptops, bring your own”. They began expecting employees to have an extra person that would work directly under them, doing half of their work and, as a result, began giving way too much work for one person to handle.

You’re no exception, of course. You've tried telling your boss that you don't own a monster and have no intention of getting one, but rather than be understanding, their response was to look at you disinterested and say "Well then I guess you will have to do double the work by yourself." They treat it like you choose not to buy a phone for personal reasons, and everyone _everywhere_  expects you to have one. They look at you like they’re saying “get with the times, if you’re not on the same wavelength as everyone else, you won’t survive out here”. Like you’re stuck in the technology of the past.

The fact that they treat monsters like things, like _tools_  disgusts you, but you can't change the world by yourself and thus, have merely fought to not drown under the sea of work. By now you’ve gotten used to working far more than you really should be, because you’ve always refused to have a monster… and now that you have one, you refuse to make him work for you. You're content to just look over to the corner he's settled in every once in a while and seeing him still sitting there, happily reading one of his books now that he’s finished his food.

From then on you’re mostly concentrated on getting lawyers what they need. You run back and forth from the main desk all around to the back where the less asked for case files are stored, carrying the heavy books this way and that. Luckily, around twenty minutes in your two coworkers come in; Victoria strutting in in a way too elegant red dress for someone in her profession, with what looks like a big bipedal spider monster walking behind her on a stylish pink leash and collar. She has equally red lipstick on, the makeup only accentuating her pale white skin. Josh, a meek guy dressed appropriately in a dress shirt and jeans, walks in behind her, black curls bobbing with his steps. His medium brown cheeks are a little flushed, likely from having come in late, and he’s gently pulling along a monster that looks just as meek as he is in a black, nondescript leash and collar. The monster is a small bug that’s flying in the air and looking a second away from bursting into tears, and after a few moments of thinking about it, you remember this particular brand of monster is quite rare nowadays; Wimsuns are so meek and have so few advantages to their name that they've mostly been... ‘taken out of the market’, so to speak. The thought makes you shudder, but you're glad the little fella has managed to survive up to this point.

Both of your coworkers say good morning to you and you politely say it back, feeling a little relieved that neither of them seem to have noticed Sans sitting in the corner yet. To say that you’re not looking forward to the questions they will pose to you about you suddenly getting a monster after years of refusing to buy one is an extreme understatement. For now, you only peek at Sans when the others are doing something else, and you’re happy to see him having finished the book he’d been reading yesterday and having a new one in his hands. He looks deeply immersed in the story, no trace of nervousness in his frame. You wonder if that’s because you’re nearby; you remember how the last time you’d tried leaving Sans alone with books he’d ended up trembling and begging to come with you. You’d already been suspecting it, but Sans really does seem uncomfortable being left on his own. Is that because he won’t be able to readily hear you in case you order him to do something? Does he use your presence as a reminder that he’s allowed to just relax like you’d invited him to? He _had_  seemed a lot more agreeable to sleep on a bed once you were in it too…

You think about all this as you work, pondering on the endless enigma that is the small skeleton you’ve recently acquired. Whenever you start getting irritated when you can’t find a case file you think back to how peaceful the small monster had looked in the corner, reading his book, and you immediately feel a lot less angry. He just has this aura around him when he’s actually calm, and knowing he’s safe and happy makes you feel good and somewhat proud of yourself. Not that… you’ve been that great a caretaker so far… but fuck, you’re trying. Soon enough though, you’re drowning in work; your tasks are divided, and while both of your coworkers have a monster helping them, albeit one having a far greater advantage when she has a spider monster with six arms and thus six hands to work with, you, as usual, are on your own. And as always, you can’t begrudge this; you’re happy you still have enough Integrity to refuse to use Sans as a tool, and although you’re angry at your bosses for giving you the extra work, you’re fine with doing it as long as it keeps Sans relaxed in his little corner.

It’s as you’re returning to the main desk from where you’d been searching for a case file in the right hallway that you see that the little cushion you’d put on the ground for Sans is empty. This immediately makes a thousand warning bells ring in your head, and you practically drop everything to search for him, even chancing the anger of some of the lawyers you’ve got waiting at the desk… though Josh quickly rushes to cover for you, the sweetheart. Luckily, you find Sans relatively quickly… but not anywhere you’d have wanted to, or with whom you’d have wanted to.

“Yeah, that’s it!” you hear Victoria praise Sans with a giggle as she pats his head and grabs the three case files he’s handing to her. He’s on his knees, most likely having looked through some of the lower lockers to find the files “You know, you’re pretty good at this, where’s Angel been hiding you all this time?”

“ ** _Victoria_** ” you hear yourself growl as you stomp over to them. Immediately, both of their heads whirl to look at you, Victoria looking shocked while Sans grins at the sight of you “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Well, I noticed this little sweetie sitting down over there a bit ago” she mentions, giving Sans’ skull another pat and only making your blood boil hotter. He doesn’t look upset at having been put to work, but _you are_  “And since I know what monsters everyone at the tribunal has I guessed he was yours. Why haven’t you brought him over before?”

“I only got him recently” you hiss, and pointedly walk forward until Victoria’s forced to take a step back and away from Sans. Now next to him, you pat his head and make a motion to indicate that he can stand up, which you’re glad he does. He starts looking a little worried though… you think it’s because it’s pretty obvious that you’re angry “But that has nothing to do with why you had him kneeling down and getting files for you. You can’t just do that.”

She looks affronted, frowning “I figured that if you had everything under control enough to not need his assistance I’d just help myself. He’s a pretty good finder y’know, he could probably cut your work in half efficiently.”

“And why exactly do you think that matters to me? I had him sitting down reading books for a reason.”

You’re still fuming, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. You only barely notice that Sans is now keeping his head down and looking stressed, shaking a little at the confrontation. Showing him you’re not angry at him takes precedence over putting your coworker in her place, so you give him a few gentle pets on the head and give him a reassuring smile when he looks up at you with wide, upset eye sockets. He seems to calm down considerably at that, and even leans a little closer to you as you put a hand on his shoulder.

“… You do know monsters have to work when they’re at _work_  right?” Victoria rolls her eyes, sassily putting a hand on her hip and raising an eyebrow “Otherwise why is he here?”

“… I can’t leave him alone yet” you say uncomfortably, unconsciously pulling Sans a little closer to you by the hand on his shoulder protectively. He doesn’t seem to mind, but does look up at you, questioning “He’s skittish, would get stressed at home. And why can’t he just sit there and read? He wasn’t bothering anybody, and was out of the way.”

“Because that’s _not how the world works_ ” by this point Victoria is frowning deeply at you, clearly not willing to accept defeat “If he’s here then he has to do something, you know miss Rodriguez hates it when she comes over and sees someone not working. That’ll fall on you, he’s your monster.”

“Then I’ll accept whatever punishment there is” you hiss, knowing fully well they can’t fire you unless you kill someone or do something equally as horrific. It’s one of the reasons why you picked the job “But I’m _not_  making Sans work-”

“What is going on here?”

Victoria tenses up as a tall, slim woman walks over to them from the hallway to the right, frowning and crossing her arms. Miss Sofia Rodriguez, all pointy chin and extremely dark complexion, is intimidating as hell. With her medium cut black dress and her flowing dark hair, she’s the picture of work elegance… and looks extremely angry at the commotion Victoria and you are making.

“M-Miss Rodriguez!” Victoria stammers, nervously tapping the fingers of both her hands together. She has an anxious grin on her face and you could almost swear her long light brown hair starts standing on end “I was just telling Angel that they can’t have their monster at the tribunal if he’s not going to work. B-Because that’s how it works.”

“Is that so?” Rodriguez looks over you with a raised brow, arms still crossed “It is about time you got yourself a monster. Why exactly do you not want to put him to work?”

“… He doesn’t need to work. I can handle it by myself” you protest, although softer than you’d argued with Victoria. You may not particularly like Rodriguez’ ideas about how monsters should be treated, but you do have some form of respect for the woman, and… well she’s just following the rules. You can’t really fault her for that “He was out of the way, wasn’t bothering anybody. I don’t see why he has to.”

“I believe you remember what the tribunal’s polices are?” Sofia mostly looks exasperated that she needs to remind you, looking down at Sans, who shrinks a little by your side “If you have your monster at work, then he has to be working. Otherwise, leave him at home."

Despite yourself, you start getting angry "There's no law stating that-"

" _This is your first of three warnings._ ”

You don’t even have another chance to refute, because the judge immediately turns and walks calmly back through the hallway, presumably back to her office. You deflate a little, but thankfully, rather than be snarky, Victoria just shrugs.

“You heard her. We should get back to work before she comes back.”

And with that, she returns to the main desk to serve the lawyers, leaving you with Sans at your side, looking up at you with slight worry.

“… master?” he talks quietly, fidgeting a little in place when you look down at him “i really don’t mind helping you at work… please, just tell me what you want me to do… i don’t want to get you in trouble.”  
  
You feel your heart sink with sadness that you can’t even spare him from this… but with a sigh, you gently lead him by the hand back to the cushion. He looks like he wants to protest when you motion for him to sit back down, but ends up doing it anyway. There’s a shopping cart full of case files beside him, and you quickly pull all of them out and put them on the floor near him, handing him a code bar reader afterwards.

“If you’re going to have to work, then I’ll give you an easy task you can do while sitting down” you tell him as you press a few keys on the computer the code bar reader is connected to, setting the program up for him “All you have to do is press the yellow button on the reader and pass it over the code bars on the last page of the case files. There’s a date on there, see?” you open one of them to the last page and point at the date, showing that it is the current one and continue after he nods “I’ve set the program so that it’s on that date. If you check the date on the last page and it’s any other than today, then leave it aside for now. Just pass the reader over the ones from today okay?”

Luckily, Sans seems to understand and nods to you with a smile “alright, master. i will do my best.”

You smile sadly and give him one last pet on the skull before you get back to work, hearing the tell-tale ‘beep!’ of the code bar reader as you do. You’re glad that whenever you look back to Sans, he seems to be fine with his task, although he seems a little bored, which… you don’t blame him for, after all the most he’s doing is opening a case file and passing the reader over the bar code. Pretty boring, but at least it’s not complicated or demanding. You guess that if he expresses actual need to do something more complex you can show him how to do other things, but only if that’s what he wants. Thankfully though, once Sans is done with the code reader an hour later, he’s more than content to look through the lockers in search of specific case files at your direction. The only rule you give him is that he has to go slowly and not kill himself searching for them, but he does as he’s told and actually helps you out a lot.

It’s as it’s nearing the end of the shift and you’re answering a lawyer’s question about a case file that Josh slides up beside you, meekly glancing at you every so often. He is anything but subtle. The lawyer thankfully says goodbye quickly after that, and since it’s just you and Josh at the front desk right now, you turn to look at him with tired eyes.

“What’s up? Do I have toothpaste on my lip or.”

Predictably, Josh startles and looks sheepishly at you, only fumbling a little with the sheets of paper he has in his hand before he starts speaking “Oh, well, I didn’t mean to be a bother or anything but just- everyone’s been gossiping today, you know, in the back, they’re just kind of wondering- and i mean i am too, of course- about this new monster you have and-”

“You all want to know what’s up with Sans” you interrupt him, already used to his rambling and complete inability to get to the point.

“Um. Y-yeah, basically” Josh seems interested now that you’ve finally gotten to the topic of conversation, looking up at you with wide eyes. He only spares the skeleton in the corner a glance before looking back at you “You’ve never been enthusiastic about monsters, so it’s just weird for you to get one out of the blue like this? Not that- n-not that it’s a bad thing, it’s just… Odd?”

“Mm” you have to agree; it would have been weird to you if you’d been any of your coworkers. You’d always been fairly vocal about your distaste for owning monsters, even if you’d never tried arguing they needed to be released from slavery. After all, as much as you dislike their policies, you work for the government; you’re an activist, not suicidal “Parents decided to get him for me as some sort of misguided present. Not exactly my choice, you know? Can’t just take the poor dude back to the store, I’d feel awful.”

You’d worked on the story on the way to work, knowing you’d get asked sooner or later. You think it makes sense, considering you’ve complained about your parents calling you and talking to you about monsters before. Plus it explains why it’s so out of the blue.

“Oh…” Josh seems more than a little relieved, turning his head again to look at Sans with something that looks like _sadness_  in his eyes “That was um, the other question… Victoria’s already talked about his attitude to everyone and they were just… concerned.”

“I know. It’s pretty obvious he’s been trained, isn’t it” Josh outright flinches when you say so, but you just sigh. To people who’ve owned non-trained monsters for a while, the difference is inarguable. Even you can tell if you look at one of your coworkers’ monsters “He came to me like that… I’m trying to be extra careful with him precisely because of it. Can’t have him just sitting around reading books apparently, so I got him just like… doing the least amount of work possible.”

You turn your head to glance at Sans as you say so, watching how he’s still walking around, now putting away case files in the corresponding lockers. You’d had nothing else to give him, but you’d managed to give him a pretty big break in between, so he should be fine. Plus putting them away is far less exhausting than searching for them and you’re almost about to leave. He’ll be fine.

“… I knew you weren’t that type of person” surprised, you whirl around to look at Josh with wide eyes, noting how he’s looking up at you “You wouldn’t do something like that… to send someone off to be _brainwashed_.”

“That whole ‘training’ thing is… is _vile_ ” you don’t often see an angry expression on meek Josh’s face, so seeing his expression quickly becoming one of _rage_  and _revulsion_  says a lot “To corrupt someone’s _soul_  like that… it should be illegal. It’s definitely immoral, and just- who the hell even thought that was okay?!”

Oh, he’s seething now. For some reason he feels _very strongly_  about this subject… You don’t know Josh very well, but you’ve never known him to stand up for anything, or to show any sort of opinion for fear of getting told off or ostracized. The fact that he’s telling you this, even if he knows you’re not a fan of how monsters are treated…

Can you trust him? What if this is all some elaborate trap to expose you as a monster sympathizer? You’ve worked here for a long time, you’d want to say they wouldn’t rat you out but…

But Josh? Sweet, meek little Josh? … Surely not.

“… The shit I’ve seen from Sans is downright disturbing. Dude can’t even tell fucking _jokes_ , when he tried he had a panic attack” you admit quietly, only taking small glances around to make sure Victoria’s still in the back. Her monster’s here putting case files away with Sans though… You think her name is Muffet? At any rate, you don’t think there’s any harm in her hearing “I’m trying to get him back to normal if possible… slowly. The stuff I’ve read on the internet doesn’t give me much hope for his recovery though…”

“It isn’t an easy thing, no” Josh says, looking down at the front desk and tapping idly at it as if in thought. You hear the flutter of his Whimsun, who’d stuttered out that his name is Bax once, overhead. Getting ready for closing time, probably “Most people don’t manage it, if they even care enough to try… but I have hope. That there’s a way.”

You can’t help but smile gently at that, feeling like you might have truly found a kindred spirit. Josh returns the smile as you start hearing a couple of voices in the back, saying goodbye to each other.

“I hope so, Josh. I sure hope so.”

You start putting your things away with Josh, calling out goodbyes as Victoria struts out with Muffet, Sofia does the same with her immaculately dressed bunny monster whose name you think is Mia, and the rest of your coworkers leave with their own monsters. In the end, it’s only you, Josh, Sans and Bax the Whimsun left. Josh seems rather… distracted, you think. He keeps staring at a wall while you’re putting your stuff away, and even as you clip the leash back onto Sans’ collar, he says nothing.

The office is quiet and dark until you’re about to open the door to leave.

“… Angel?”

You pause with your hand on the doorknob, looking back to Josh warily. He’s holding a small piece of paper in his hands and fidgeting with it… You think you’d seen him writing something down on it earlier after looking at his phone for a second.

“… Yeah?” you call out, clutching at Sans’ leash with some anxiety.

“Look, you don’t like, have to and stuff - _and please don’t tell anybody about this!_ \- but um… My cousin. He has a place in the countryside where they’re trying to uh… undo the whole training thing. There hasn’t been much progress so far, and since you’ve got a trained monster too if you like… learn anything that isn’t online… could you call him and tell him?” Josh then meekly holds up the piece of paper, which he now reveals has a phone number on it. He looks… somewhat desperate “I’d… really appreciate it. _Please_.”

You’re incredible curious about why this means so much to Josh, but for now… you just lean over and gently take the piece of paper from his hand. You quickly put it in your pocket for safekeeping and smile at your coworker, not without some pity.

“Of course. If I learn anything I’ll send him a message.”

Josh practically melts from relief at that, letting out a sigh and standing up a little straighter “Thank you… That means a lot.”

And with that, you say goodbye to each other before you close and lock the door to the office behind you, walking to the elevator. You’re aware of Sans’ curious eyes on you, but he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to talk, so for now you just let the silence prevail. He’s quiet all the way to your car, and even as he sits in the back seat and you strap yourselves in.

It’s only once you start driving that Sans seems to find the courage to speak, but he takes his time. You hear the clicking of bone against bone as he seemingly fiddles with his phalanges for a little while. After around five minutes, he finally manages to say something.

"... master?" Sans starts quietly, only shifting his eye lights to avoid your eyes when you peek at him on the rearview mirror, focusing back on the road a moment later ”… you won't send me away... will you?"

You feel your entire train of thought stop in its tracks, once again taking a few peeks at Sans on the mirror, but not being able to glean anything more about what he’s feeling from his posture or expression. They’re blank, only slightly hesitant.

"... Of course not. You're fine, bud" you say a little nervously, eyes now firmly on the road "I wouldn't just abandon you like that."

Is this about Josh's cousin's farm? You guess it would be the easiest way to extract yourself from the situation but… you care too much to let it go just like that. Of course, if you were to even think that sending Sans to the farm would be the option that would most benefit him you’d send him without question, but as it stands you don't see how much good it will do, not when _Josh_  had approached _you_  for help. Plus, you'd be worried Sans would get too stressed out without you, because despite everything he does seem to have gotten a little attached to you already. The same can be said for you, of course. You'd let him go if it was for the best, but... No way around it, you would miss him. You're kind of getting used to having him around, and just extracting him from your life suddenly would hurt.

You hear a soft breath and manage to look at Sans right as his body and expression relax a little. Seems like you managed to reassure him. Good. You truly do want to be able to be friends with him when he gets better, considering you've already kind of been imagining him probably always being in your life. It's not like he can just leave after all... Well, you should probably rephrase. He _can_ , but it'd be dangerous as hell. Free monsters simply _don’t exist._  As such, you'll do your best to make him eventually want to stay, to make your home his home as well.

The thought of lazy afternoons just lying on the couch and watching movies with Monica and Sans, commenting on shitty horror movies and laughing... It makes you happy. It's something to strive to. You let that motivate you as you drive.

Eventually, you reach a shopping center. Considering you already have a collar and leash for Sans, there's absolutely no need to pass by the pet store where they're, disgustingly, also selling stuff for monsters. As such, the real reason you’re here is to get Sans some clothes and, hopefully, some entertainment stuff he’ll like. You know for a fact that he likes stars, but although you know he likes books, you’re unsure if he got so into the ones you gave him because they were science fiction. It’s possible he just enjoyed the fact that you’d given him any at all, so you want to see if anything else catches his interest. Plus, this is a good way to exercise his right to a choice.

That’s how the two of you end up getting out of the car and into the building, your first stop being somewhere you can have lunch. Humans, mages, and monsters alike are sitting at the food court, humans and mages sitting in chairs while monsters sit on the floor by their master’s seat. You fight back the expression of disdain your face wants to make, swallowing it down with a small bit of bile as you remember you’ll have to do the same for the sake of appearances. After all, putting a target on your back will mean putting one on Sans’ as well… And you know he must be fairly valuable from how tense both the lord and the mobster had been when exchanging him for money. Just how much is he worth…? Best not give anybody any ideas of killing you for being a Monster Lover and snatching Sans while they’re at it.

You try asking the skeleton what he wants to eat, but as usual he only grins and says that whatever you choose will be more than good enough, so you settle for buying something you already know he has no issue eating. You lead him by the leash to the nearest fast food restaurant, ordering one burger with magic and one without. You expect the cashier to look at you with disgust once they realize the magic burger is for Sans, but they just smile and tell you your total. Then you notice the collar on their neck and just quietly go _'oh'_ to which they give you a sad smile. Not for the first time, you curse yourself for not pursuing a career in politics just so you could have had _some_  chance to prevent this whole mess from happening. But you didn't, and have absolutely no power to change the way the world works. As such, all you can do is slip the cashier some tip money when you give them your credit card, and they give you a huge smile before 'accidentally' dropping some packed condiments on the floor, presumably using the opportunity to hide the money in their shoes. You feel a little less like a piece of shit as you get given your food and walk over to a table.

As much as you _despise it_ , the moment you sit down and put the tray on the table, you don’t make a sound of indignation when Sans immediately sits down on the floor next to your chair. Rather, you tense, close your eyes as you take a deep breath, and let it go. You grab the wrapped magic burger and hand it to Sans, feeling a little better when the monster’s eye lights brighten a little and he gently takes the food from your hands, offering you a small smile. Despite the fact that you’ve been feeding him normal food this entire time, he still seems pleasantly surprised. Perhaps he thought it'd be different in public? Well, you aren’t sitting with him on the floor like usual so it isn’t too wild an assumption…

“thank you, master” he says quietly, bowing his head a little. He doesn’t unwrap his burger just yet, seemingly waiting for you to take the first bite. He doesn’t always do this, but gets hung up on it sometimes; like the habit wasn’t fully programmed in but heavily encouraged nevertheless. You unwrap your own sandwich quickly and take a small bite, prompting Sans to start on his own.

Lunch is fairly uneventful. Nobody comes to bother you, but you quickly realize that Sans is the only monster eating actual food. You’d been wondering what exactly it was that monsters were supposed to eat if it wasn’t regular magic-infused food, and sadly you get your answer as you look around. Most monsters at their masters’ feet aren’t even eating, but the ones that _are_  are slowly scooping what looks like dog food into their mouths from a pet bowl. Now that you think about it, you believe you recall some advertisement on tv announcing the new monster food just like they would dog food… You’re fairly certain they’re the same thing, only these food pellets have magic in them. It makes your gut roil but you force your food down; the fact that these fuckers _actually_  went to the trouble to carry pet bowls and pet food over to the mall rather than choose the simpler option to buy their monsters regular food only disgusts you more. Now _that_  is something you’re not willing to do for appearances.

Thankfully, the two of you finish relatively quickly and you stand to throw the mess on the tray away, making sure to keep Sans close. You might just be paranoid, but after thinking of how much he might be worth just letting him sit a few feet away from you makes your hair stand on end. He’s already been stolen twice, and that’s only the ones you know of, even if you hadn’t stolen him for his value. You loath to think of what other greedy humans might want to put their mitts on him. With a shudder, you _very gently_  pull on the leash to ask Sans to come a little closer as you walk, and he looks at you with some confusion, but does what you silently ask.

Eventually, you reach the store you’d been thinking of, a relatively cheap clothing store that still offers good quality products. You’re particularly fond of it because there are a lot of loose shirts and sweaters, both items that you absolutely _adore_  lazying around in on a Friday afternoon. You have no clue as to what Sans’ personality is like yet, so for now you think you’ll buy a few loose things but also some formal casual, if only for work. You’d noticed how the judge’s eyebrow had risen just from looking at what Sans was wearing, since you’d given him the best you could find in your own closet. No more! He’ll have his own stuff if you have to drag him everywhere.

“Anything that catch your eye… socket?” you ask as you lead Sans along the racks, picking at shirts here and there without even settling for a color. You turn your head to look at him “If there’s anything you like just go for it, you can try it on in a fitting room.”

Sans just smiles, one of his hands playing with the little tear drop of his necklace “thank you, but there’s no need, master. i have enough.”

You pause “… You only have what you have on right now. And you’re borrowing those from me.”

Another infuriatingly fake smile “that’s alright.”

You’d hoped it wouldn’t go this way, but you’re not surprised. Instead of letting out your frustrations by screaming into one of the shirts on the rack though, you let out a breath and just keep looking. There has to be _something_  he’ll like. If not by design then at least by how comfy it is.

You don’t feel confident enough in Sans’ tastes to buy the NASA shirt you find, but you definitely keep it in mind for later. Aside from that, simple shirts look the best on him. You send him off to the fitting room with a few dress shirts and a few comfy shirts, as well as pajamas. Each time he comes out to show you you try your best to figure out what his micro expressions are saying, but _damn_ is reading his little skeletal face hard when he’s not obvious about it. Even his eye lights are completely static, not widening or shrinking in any way you can use to indicate if he likes this or not. The only thing that seems to change is that he starts looking a little sleepy when he tries on the pajamas, a loose shirt and shorts plus slippers. It’s a good kind of sleepy, somewhat relaxed. You decide that it’s the best you’ll get and choose to get mostly loose and comfy clothes, only a few more fitting for when you two go to work.

You end up buying him at least three pairs of slippers. It’s just… there were rabbit slippers, and bear slippers, and _pink_  slippers… and you about died at how sleepy and almost content he looked. So now he has way too many slippers, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Hm, should probably get you weather appropriate stuff too, huh bud?” you look at Sans, who to your surprise is intensely staring at… jackets? Maybe he was thinking the same thing as you “Heh, you already found the cold section. See anything you like?”

You don’t expect anything different, but you ask anyway and… you’re pleasantly surprised when Sans, after staring at the jackets for a few more seconds, carefully grabs one with both his hands and holds it to his chest. He first looks at your feet, then slowly his eye lights look up at you. Almost pleading.

Taking the time to actually look at the item of clothing, it looks comfy as all hell. It’s blue, with really warm looking wool all around the neck and hood, perfectly placed pockets to hide hands in and most importantly, the material looks soft. You immediately fall in love with it, though the fact that Sans has basically begged you for it with his eye lights has a lot to do with it.

“Oh my god that jacket looks amazing. You want it?” you ask giddily, really hoping he’ll verbally ask you for it. Is that asking too much? You just want him to try, honestly. The mere fact that he picked it out already means so much.

Sans looks back down to the floor for a bit, his cheeks slowly gaining color until, a few seconds later, he bows his head a little. A barely audible ’… please’ can be heard. You can almost imagine he’s already wishing he were in the hoodie so he could hide his head in the fluff. Instead, he brings the jacket up a little so he can hide his face in the back, which is too fucking precious and makes you let out a soft breath of a laugh, grinning with delight.

“Aw, it’s okay, you don’t need to hide” you chuckle, gently grabbing the jacket and moving it down so you can see his face “If you like it, you get it. Here, let me put it in the basket for you.”

Luckily, he doesn’t fight you for it, just ends up looking at the floor, still flushed and seemingly embarrassed. It’s a good change from how scared he’d looked when he’d asked for more books however, and you think this is a step in the right direction. That he’s learning how you work, learning that you’re not going to hurt him for asking for things. It’s only been four days so of course he’s having trouble, but you’re fairly sure that you’re pretty different from any of his masters. Enough so that the distinction is easy to make, even for him. If you’re consistent you think that maybe, just maybe, even without messing with his soul he can at least get far enough to realize that you don’t want to hurt him. Maybe…

You sigh and pat the poor shy skeleton’s head, looking at him softly “You’re doing great, Sans” he looks up at you with wide sockets and you only pet him more decisively, as if you were ruffling his nonexistent hair. He closes his sockets and makes a small noise of surprise “Let me know if there’s anything else you like, bud.”

“yes, master” he says softly, still lightly flushed but looking a lot calmer than he did a little bit ago. You notice his eye lights immediately hone in on a rack and turn your eyes over there as well “would… would one more thing be okay?”

He says so quietly, hesitantly, but he’s asking for it anyway and you feel your smile widening.  
“Absolutely! What do you want?” you say with enthusiasm, looking down at the skeleton with shining eyes.

He gives you a small smile and hesitantly raises his hand as if wanting to grab onto your sleeve, looking up at you to ask for permission. You sigh softly and slowly grab his outstretched hand, putting it onto your wrist, allowing him to grab either that or the sleeve if he wants. You notice he didn’t flinch or tense up when your hand got close to his, and you feel a warm fuzzy feeling in your chest.

Luckily, Sans takes your offering and pinches a bit of your sleeve with his phalanges, gently pulling you along until the two of you are at the rack he’d been looking at before. It's filled with winter wear, more specifically gloves, knitted hats and scarves. Before you have the chance to guess what it is he wants from it, Sans picks out something and holds it up to show it to you, still looking fairly shy.

It's a red scarf.

"Aw nice!" you light up, taking one of the ends into your hands. The material is incredibly soft "Seems like it's good quality. You want it?"

His expression grows a little more flushed and shy, but he manages a 'yes, please' with a slightly louder voice than before. Less uncertain. In response, you grin at him and gently take it from his hands, dropping it into the basket in your hands. Sans perks up when he sees you putting it in and relaxes, giving you a small smile.

It doesn't take you too much longer to go to the checkout, since Sans doesn't point anything else out to you and the only things you haven't gotten are socks and shoes. While he tests out a few pairs of sneakers you ask him if he wants to pick out underwear, to which he looks up to you and blinks. Apparently skeletons don't need underwear... What that means you're not entirely certain yet. But regardless, you're done picking essential stuff for him relatively quickly and you pay for your items with nothing more than an odd look from the checkout lady, who is not a mage this time and seems to find you buying so many clothing items for your monster weird. You ignore it however and lead Sans out of the store with your purchases in hand.

"So. Now that you've got clothes, we should get something for you to do at home” you say as the two of you walk through the mall, eyeing stores as you go along in search for anything interesting "I know you like books, but is there any particular genre you like?"

"i..." he pauses and frowns, and you start to see his eye lights slowly growing foggier than usual "i really don't... need anything, master. you already bought me clothes... and you got me those books... that was already..." suddenly, he looks upset "oh no, that was too much, wasn't it, i shouldn't have asked for-"

"No no, that's fine Sans, I uh..." you wince a little and start talking quickly, not wanting him to go back into a panic. He'd been doing so well too "I'm just gonna show you books and you can tell me if you like them or not, okay? Just a yes or no is enough.“

That doesn’t work, he only looks more upset, eye lights steadily growing foggier to the point that they're close to becoming a blur “b-but-”

“It’s really fine! I’ll just-!” you feel yourself getting agitated. You can’t have him freaking out in the middle of a mall, a big enough panic attack can dust him, _fuck fuck fuck-_  “I want these for myself! I uh, I just want your opinion on them!”

He pauses, face going slack and looking up at you with that… horrid lost expression. He even tilts his head to the side like a confused pup.

“opinion? … for yourself?”

You will yourself to calm down. He latched onto that, this has to be something you can use if you just- chill and think about what you’re saying. Right?

“Yeah, your opinion would um… give me more ideas of what might be good?” you say uncertainly, grinning nervously down at him. God, you have no idea what you’re doing “You liked the ones I lent you before, right?” you wait for his tentative nod before continuing “Well I love those books! And um, since you like them too, I think your taste might be just like mine. So if you just… tell me which books you think you like, that means I’ll probably like them too and I won’t have to spend time… reading a bunch of blurbs at the end of books to know if they’d be interesting…?”

You want to facepalm so hard. What the hell are you even saying? You haven’t even _read_  those books, let alone know enough to love them.

Despite what you think of your speech however, Sans blinks a couple of times and his eye lights slowly go back to being just the slightest bit foggy, like a watery moon. He smiles up at you.

“oh. of course, master, i am always happy to help.”

… Wow. You can’t believe that actually worked.

“Uh. Cool” you say with surprise, gently pulling Sans along as you walk “Would you like me to lend them to you later?”

“… if… you wouldn’t mind, master…” he fidgets with his hands, looking a little flushed again but not upset “i would like to… as long as you’re not reading them…”

“Great” you let yourself relax at that and keep walking, brain already working overtime to try and comprehend what just happened so you can figure out how to replicate it.

So what you’re getting here is that buying stuff for him is a big no no. ‘That was too much’ sticks with you as the two of you go into a bookstore, and you let Sans peruse the vast amount of shelves while you think. He’d seemed embarrassed but alright with you buying him clothes, it was when you went ahead and tried giving him books too, _giving him more_ , that he freaked out, so it seems like, in small bursts, he can accept you buying stuff for him. That’s the keyword however, _small bursts_. Push too much, and he’ll freak. You guess you’d kind of known that already, you just didn’t know this was going to be one of those instances. Now you’re only more determined in learning how much is too much to ask of Sans in one day.

At the very least you’ve learned that masking getting stuff for him as you getting it for yourself and merely lending it to him is a valid way of circumventing that particular bit of his brainwashing. That makes things a lot easier, you just have to figure out a way in which it would benefit you and pretend it’s for yourself. Granted, you’re only planning to use this tactic for as long as Sans is a panic attack away from dusting; you need him to eventually understand that you _do_ want to buy stuff for him, to make him as happy as possible. But that’s going to be a slow process.

The rest of your trip consists of Sans choosing around six sci-fi and space-related books to his liking and you buying them, deciding that the poor skeleton has had more than enough stress today, and driving home. Thankfully Sans seems tuckered out from all the emotional strain of the day and doesn’t fuss as you make the both of you food and send him off to shower (this time making sure it doesn’t sound like an order). He gets into a pair of his new pajamas and into bed, and you simply can’t explain the sudden burst of affection you get at seeing him so comfy and relaxed. He practically falls asleep in seconds after saying goodnight to you. You take a moment to gently pet at his skull, thinking that this monster will be the end of you.

You burrow into bed and fall asleep quickly.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is greatly inspired by "Slavetale" by V_mum, "The Way We Were Meant to Be" by LordJixis, "Absinthe and Ecstasy" by ViciousFlame and the blog "pet-sanses" on tumblr. They are all AMAZING. I highly recommend them! Even if you don't like this fic, if you want more Slavetale and Sans/Reader look them up, you won't regret it!


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